cean 


/ 


O'er  Oceans  and  Continents 

WITH   THE   SETTING   SUN 
& 


BY 


FISCAR  MARISON 


THIRD  SERIES 

JERUSALEM,  PALESTINE  IN  BEDOUIN  GARB,  SYRIA  AND 

THE  ISLANDS  OF  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

SMYRNA,  CONSTANTINOPLE, 

ATHENS,  CORFU 


CHICAGO 
AUTHOR'S  EDITION 


COPYRIGHT,  1909 
BY  GEO.  J.  BLATTER 

All  Rights  Reserved 


Efje  lsft«tof 

R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


PREFACE. 

For  this  third  series  of  "O'er  Oceans"  the 
author  kindly  requests  a  continuance  of  the  good 
will  which  he  met  with  in  the  publication  of  the 
first  and  second  series.  It  is  issued  for  the  same 
purpose:  to  herald  and  promote  the  first  English 
translation  of  the  great  Spanish  work,  "  Ciudad  de 
Dios." 

FISCAR  MARISON. 
331  91  ST  STREET,  CHICAGO. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 
CONSTANTINOPLE  FROM  THE  CEMETERY     Frontispiece 

MOUNT  MORIA,  JERUSALEM          ...  28 

IN  ARAB  COSTUME      .          .         ...  47 

NAZARETH          ......  73 

ENTRANCE — THE  HOLY  SEPULCHRE — INTERIOR  119 

TARSUS     .......  146 

ST.  SOPHIA        .         .         .         .         .         .  174 

PANORAMA  OF  ATHENS  AND  ELEUSIS      .          .  203 

THE  ACROPOLIS          .         .      -  .         .         .  213 

RUINS  OF  OLYMPIA    .....  213 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  NEAT  PIECE  OF  SMUGGLERY  —  ANCIENT  JAFFA  — 
UP  JUDEA'S  MOUNTAINS  TO  JERUSALEM  —  AT  THE 
AUSTRIAN  HOSPICE  —  MOONLIGHT  WANDERINGS  — 
AN  HOUR  AT  GETHSEMANE  ON  HOLY  THURSDAY. 

Having  embarked  on  the  steamer  Thalia  at  Port  Said, 
we  arose  early  next  day,  the  Thursday  of  Holy  Week,  in 
order  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the  most  sacred  land 
in  all  Christendom.  The  rays  of  the  morning  sun 
blazed  a  wide  pathway  of  glinting  gold  on  the  rippling 
waves  to  the  darker  outlines  of  buildings  and  minarets  of 
ancient  Jaffa,  that  rose  on  high  bluffs  over  the  blue 
waters  of  the  Mediterranean. 

The  steamer  anchored  in  the  deep  water  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  rocky  shore,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  horde  of  carriers  had  surrounded  the  ship  in 
their  boats  and  were  climbing  over  the  sides.  Cook's 
agent,  who  was  dressed  in  a  Turkish  uniform,  had 
also  boarded  the  ship  with  a  bevy  of  carriers  and  boat- 
men to  get  his  share  of  the  spoils.  I  determined  to 
trust  myself  into  his  hands,  and  see  what  he  could  do  for 
me  in  my  attempt  to  smuggle  myself  into  Turkish  terri- 
tory without  a  vise.  But  another  set  of  fiends  had  already 
snatched  our  handbags.  While  I  set  about  recovering 
them  from  their  hands  by  main  force,  I  suddenly  stood 
face  to  face  with  Mr.  Wiltzius,  of  Milwaukee,  who  was 
having  a  similar  scramble.  Of  course  we  had  a  hearty 
handshake,  and  he  immediately  decided  to  join  us  in 
Cook's  boat.  So,  with  a  score  of  other  passengers,  we 
were  soon  approaching  the  dangerous  rocks  that  jut  out 
of  the  waters  near  the  shore.  Our  stout  Turk,  who  had 

ii 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

taken  us  in  charge  as  Cook's  agent  in  Jaffa,  demanded 
our  papers.  He  returned  my  American  passport  with 
the  remark  that  it  was  not  sufficient,  and  that  I  would 
have  trouble  at  landing.  We  were  now  approaching 
the  only  opening  between  the  broken  rocks  near  the 
shore.  Huge  waves  were  rolling  against  them,  and  if 
the  boatmen  should  allow  the  boat  to  swerve  only  a  few 
feet  to  one  side  or  the  other,  we  would  be  dashed  to 
pieces  on  their  jagged  edges.  But  they  knew  their 
business,  and  shot  us  through  the  passage  on  the  crest  of 
a  wave,  landing  us  safely  at  the  pier  of  the  custom-house. 
Our  stout  Turk  simply  pushed  his  way  past  the  Turkish 
soldiers  and  custom  officials,  through  a  dark  gateway, 
beckoning  us  all  to  follow.  I  was  wondering  where  we 
would  be  stopped  for  our  passports;  but  when  we 
issued  on  one  of  the  lively  streets  to  Jaffa,  I  under- 
stood that  our  rotund  guide  had  railroaded  us  through 
the  whole  crowd  of  venal  officials  by  that  open  sesame 
of  Turkish  regime:  bakshish.  Well,  it  was  a  real 
service,  and  I  scored  it  up  in  favor  of  Cook's  agency. 

From  a  distance  at  sea,  Jaffa  looks  like  a  well-built 
city  on  the  summit  of  wave-beaten  cliffs.  But  when 
you  pass  through  the  narrow,  ruinous  streets,  and  see  the 
hovels  half  buried  in  the  wastes  of  thousands  of  years, 
you  quickly  change  your  opinion.  The  upper  bazaars, 
and  some  few  streets  neighboring  to  them,  show  some 
signs  of  modern  improvement  and  regard  for  cleanliness. 
They  are  full  of  life,  and  you  will  find  people  of  all  nations 
mixed  up  with  the  swarming  Turks  and  Arabs.  For 
those  who  are  charitably  inclined,  it  is  better  to  procure 
some  of  the  small  coins,  paras  and  metaliques,  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  numerous  demands  of  the  beggars  and  bak- 
shish hunters.  We  had  made  up  our  minds  to  stay  for 
dinner  in  the  Franciscan  hospice,  one  of  the  oldest  build- 
ings in  Jaffa  and  overlooking  the  beach.  A  brother 
showed  us  to  Simon  the  Tanner's  house,  where  St.  Peter 

12 


To  JERUSALEM. 

saw  the  clean  and  unclean  animals  which  he  was  com- 
manded to  eat  let  down  from  heaven  in  a  cloth.  Through 
this  vision  he  was  instructed  to  receive  the  heathen  cen- 
turion into  the  church,  who  was  already  waiting  at  the 
door  of  the  house.  A  small  mosque,  very  bare  and  dirty, 
stands  on  the  place.  The  old  man  that  had  charge  of  it 
wanted  us  to  take  off  our  shoes;  but  as  our  shoes  were 
much  cleaner  than  the  mosque  we  refused  to  undergo 
that  trouble.  There  was  nothing  inside  that  we  could 
not  see  from  the  door.  It  is  of  course  only  the  traditional 
spot  where  Simon's  house  used  to  stand;  for  the  house 
itself  has  disappeared  long  ago. 

We  came  very  near  missing  the  afternoon  train  to 
Jerusalem  by  the  blundering  of  Cook's  agents  that  had 
charge  of  our  baggage.  Happily  Mr.  Wiltzius  had 
bought  tickets  for  us  before  we  came.  The  train  at  first 
winds  through  the  plains  of  Sharon,  where  the  German 
Templars  have  planted  some  beautiful  orange  groves ; 
but  only  for  a  few  miles  from  Jaffa:  beyond  that  the 
land  is  not  much  cultivated.  The  plows  used  by  some 
of  the  natives  on  the  fields  were  only  two  sticks  of  wood 
tied  together  at  right  angles.  Cows  or  oxen  are  hitched 
to  the  free  end  of  one  stick.  The  plowman  holds  the 
upper  end  of  the  other  stick  and  presses  on  the  lower  end 
slightly  scratching  the  soil.  After  an  hour  or  so  we 
passed  Ramleh,  one  of  the  larger  villages  along  the 
railroad,  where  the  old  tower  of  Ramleh  is  visible  from 
the  train.  Lydda  conies  next,  which  is  the  birthplace  of 
St.  George,  and  must  have  been  quite  a  town  formerly. 

The  progress  of  the  train  became  still  slower  when  we 
began  to  reach  the  mountains  of  Judea.  They  are  a 
rocky  desert,  for  the  most  part  barren  and  treeless ;  yet 
wherever  sheer  necessity  of  procuring  sustenance  induced 
the  natives  to  cover  the  rocky  ledges  with  ground,  and 
irrigate  the  sunburnt  hillside,  they  were  abundantly  re- 
warded. Most  of  the  time  the  train  goes  no  faster  than 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

a  walk.  Such  a  pace  would  soon  drive  all  traffic  from  an 
American  railroad,  but  it  seems  to  do  very  well  in  Pales- 
tine. Though  the  distance  is  only  ninety  kilometers  or 
fifty-two  miles,  it  took  the  train  five  hours  to  reach 
Jerusalem.  The  terminal  station  is  outside  the  walls, 
southwest  of  the  city.  The  different  new  establish- 
ments and  settlements  bid  fair  to  become  the  most  pop- 
ulous portion  of  the  historic  Jerusalem.  Among  the 
many  establishments  outside  the  city  there  are  now  quite 
a  number  of  Catholic  ones,  such  as  the  German  hospice, 
the  convent  of  Notre  Dame,  the  Creche  of  the  Sisters 
of  Charity,  St.  Peter's  Institute  of  P.  Ratisbon  for  boys, 
St.  Stephen's  church  and  Dominican  monastery,  and 
the  Assumptionists'  hospice.  We  hired  a  carriage  in 
order  to  be  brought  to  Cook's  office  at  the  Jaffa  gate. 
There  I  received  a  batch  of  welcome  letters  from  home, 
reassuring  me  that  all  was  well  and  prosperous.  There 
are  no  wagon  roads  in  Jerusalem,  and  therefore  in 
order  to  reach  the  Austrian  hospice,  which  was  recom- 
mended by  Mr.  Wiltzius,  it  was  necessary  to  pass  again 
through  the  Jaffa  gate  on  the  road,  which  runs  paral- 
lel to  and  outside  of  the  west  walls  to  the  Damascus 
gate.  Re-entering  the  city,  we  were  soon  hospitably 
quartered  in  the  Austrian  hospice. 

I  had  made  some  plans  of  my  own  in  regard  to  the  use 
of  the  time  after  supper.  I  wanted  to  spend  a  part  of  the 
evening  of  Holy  Thursday  alone  in  the  garden  of  Geth- 
semane,  where  our  Saviour  had  begun  his  passion  on  the 
same  night  nineteen  centuries  ago.  Perhaps  the  same 
beautiful  moonlight  filled  the  narrow  streets  and  the  val- 
ley of  the  Kedron  when  he  so  sorrowfully  wended  his  way 
with  the  Apostles  to  the  lonely  garden.  But  my  desire 
of  being  alone  on  this  excursion  was  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment. I  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  give  my  room- 
mates the  slip  without  being  obliged  to  explain ;  but  Mr. 
Wiltzius  urged  me  to  go  with  him  to  Casa  Nova,  the 

14 


A  MOONLIGHT  WALK. 


Franciscan  hospice,  where  he  said  we  would  meejt  Fathers 
V.  H.  and  B.  I  thought  this  was  a  fine  chance  to  steal  a 
march  on  them,  and  I  tried  to  induce  him  and  my  other 
companion  to  hunt  up  those  two  gentlemen  without  my 
company.  But  they  would  not  be  put  off  so  easily  as 
that.  I  had  to  reveal  my  intention  of  visiting  Gethsem- 
ane,  and  then  Mr.  Wiltzius  simply  proposed  to  go  with 
me.  As  for  my  other  companion,  who  was  so  hard  of 
hearing,  he  immediately  suspected  me  of  trying  to  shake 
him  off  for  good,  and  leave  him\ henceforth  to  shift  for 
himself.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  such  a  thought  never 
entered  my  mind.  I  had  given  my  promise  to  conduct 
him  to  Vienna,  and  nothing  short  of  impossibility  would 
ever  have  induced  me  to  leave  that  promise  unfulfilled. 
The  trouble  and  annoyance  caused  by  his  infirmity,  and 
his  suspicions  which  are  consequent  upon  it,  were  some- 
times very  great,  as  can  easily  be  imagined.  Of  course 
after  so  much  of  my  intended  excursion  had  become 
known,  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  than  to  invite  my 
companions  to  join  me. 

There  had  been  so  much  talk  of  the  danger  of  passing 
alone  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  and  the  territory 
outside  the  walls,  that  the  others  insisted  on  taking  along 
Ali,  the  kawass  of  the  hospice.  I  had  intended  to  go 
alone :  now  there  was  even  a  Mussulman  in  the  party. 
The  four  of  us  sauntered  through  the  narrow  street 
leading  to  St.  Stephen's  gate,  through  the  Turkish 
cemeteries,  down  to  the  torrent  of  Kedron,  and  over  the 
stone  bridge  across  it  to  the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  Its 
high  stone  walls,  only  a  few  paces  from  the  Kedron, 
gleamed  white  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  dark  foliage  of 
the  olive  trees  that  overtopped  the  walls  were  not  stirred 
by  even  a  breath  of  wind.  To  one  side  the  rocky  decliv- 
ities of  Mount  Moria  crowned  by  the  spectral  city  walls, 
and  on  the  other,  the  stony  heights  of  Olivet  guarded  the 
intervening  valley  of  Josaphat.  Through  this  valley 

15 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

trickles  the  brook  Kedron,  downward  to  the  Hill  of  Bad 
Council  and  Hinom  Vale.  What  a  sacred  stillness 
reigned  here  on  this  night  in  these  holy  places!  The 
silvery  flood  of  moonlight  lay  poured  out  over  hill  and 
valley,  over  crumbling  walls  and  dark  olive  trees,  and  over 
the  gleaming  rocks.  Arriving  at  the  low  portal  of  the 
enclosure  of  Gethsemane,  we  saw  several  dark  forms  of 
persons  crouched  on  the  ledge  of  white  rocks  before  the 
gate,  seemingly  on  the  same  errand  as  we  ourselves. 
The  Franciscans  are  in,  possession  of  a  part  of  the  old 
garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  we  expected  some  kind  of 
divine  service  in  it  on  Holy  Thursday.  So  much  the 
greater  was  our  surprise  to  find  the  portals  closely  barred 
and  our  knocks  remain  unanswered.  The  rocks  in 
front  of  the  gate,  mark  the  spot  where  the  three  Apostles 
fell  asleep  during  the  agony.  About  two  or  three  hun- 
dred feet  from  the  garden  walls  is  the  grotto,  or  rather 
the  large  cave,  which  is  said  to  have  been  the  scene  of 
the  bloody  sweat  of  the  Lord.  As  we  were  not  familiar 
with  the  surroundings  on  our  first  night  in  Jerusalem, 
we  did  not  visit  the  grotto  until  some  days  after.  It  may 
be  that  the  Catholics  had  services  there  on  that  night ;  but 
we  saw  nobody  going  that  way. 

While  we  were  contemplating  the  scenes  around  us, 
we  noticed  some  people  straggling  slowly  up  the  moun- 
tain along  the  road,  and  very  soon  we  heard  the  mournful 
strains  of  a  song,  now  and  then  interrupted  by  spoken 
words.  Curiosity  led  us  in  the  direction  of  the  sounds, 
and  we  came  upon  about  a  score  of  people,  very  well 
dressed.  They  were  standing  on  a  ledge  of  the  mountain 
listening  to  a  Protestant  preacher,  who  was  reading  St. 
John's  account  of  this  night's  occurrences  two  thousand 
years  ago.  He  seemed  to  be  very  solemn  and  sincere  in 
his  rendering  of  the  passages,  and  the  little  band  of  pious 
souls  sang  with  much  affection  and  devoutness.  Though 
it  was  only  a  Protestant  service,  the  solemnity  of  the 

16 


PROTESTANT  DEVOTION. 


place  and  time  no  doubt  was  favorable  to  the  workings 
of  God's  grace  in  the  hearts  of  the  participants.  Those 
whom  circumstances  have  deprived  of  the  sunlight  of 
true  Catholic  doctrine  do  well  not  to  reject  the  pale 
glimmers  of  heresy  for  their  devotion.  We  left  these 
devout  persons  in  order  to  meditate  for  a  while  near  the 
entrance  of  the  garden,  and  then  returned  across  the 
Kedron,  climbing  up  to  the  right  around  the  city  walls,  to 
the  Damascus  gate  on  the  other  side  of  the  city.  Darkly 
the  old  walls  and  the  crumbling  battelments  of  Jerusalem 
rose,  casting  ghost-like  yet  well-defined  shadows  on  the 
rocky,  moonlit  ground  to  our  left.  Nor  did  the  Turkish 
sentinels  that  still  watch  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  deem  it 
worth  while  to  leave  their  dark  recesses  or  molest  us,  as 
we  passed  under  the  vast  arches  of  the  Damascus  gate. 
Only  a  short  distance  inside  the  walls,  on  a  road  branch- 
ing off  to  the  left,  we  soon  regained  our  rooms  in  the 
Austrian  hospice,  and  betook  ourselves  to  our  first 
night's  rest  in  the  Holy  City. 


CHAPTER  II. 

GOOD  FRIDAY  ON  GOLGOTHA  —  A  GATHERING  FROM 
ALL  CHRISTENDOM — TURKISH  COIN,  A  PERPETUATED 
FRAUD  —  IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  THE  SAVIOR  —  "His 
TOMB  SHALL  BE  GLORIOUS." 

Getting  up  early  next  morning  we  hastened  on  our  way 
to  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in  order  to  take  part 
in  the  service  of  Good  Friday.  Those  parts  of  the  church 
which  belong  to  the  Catholics  are  in  charge  of  the  Fran- 
ciscans, who  have  been  the  guardians  of  the  holy  places 
in  Palestine  since  the  thirteenth  century.  Hence  they 
also  conducted  the  Latin  services. 

The  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  on  feast  days  will 
probably  be  a  sad  disappointment  to  the  unwary  stranger. 
In  his  own  country  he  associates  with  the  celebration  of 
a  feast  in  a  Christian  church,  a  solemn  silence,  devout 
postures  of  the  people,  and  heart-stirring  music.  Here  he 
will  meet  very  little  of  all  these.  He  will  find  the  church 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  filled  with  motley  crowds  from  all 
nations  and  climes,  and  belonging  to  different  religions. 
At  his  very  entrance  his  eyes  encounter  a  guard  of  Turk- 
ish soldiers,  lying  or  sitting  on  a  raised  platform,  to  the 
left  and  inside  of  the  portals.  They  laugh  and  talk  and 
gape  at  the  passing  crowds,  even  smoking  their  nargilehs. 
More  of  these  Turkish  soldiers  fully  armed,  he  will  after- 
wards meet  in  all  parts  of  the  church,  ready  to  interfere 
at  any  disturbance  with  their  weapons.  Then  he  will 
probably  have  to  push  his  way  through  surging  crowds  of 
Russian,  French,  German,  Austrian,  and  English  pilgrims, 
and  the  adherents  of  the  Greek,  Coptic,  Armenian 
schisms,  who  fill  the  spacious  recesses  and  naves  of  the 

19 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

church.  He  can  witness  the  services  of  the  Latins,  Greeks, 
Copts,  and  Armenians  at  stated  hours  of  the  day,  some- 
times at  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  sometimes  at  the  chapels  or 
altars  belonging  exclusively  to  each  of  these  religions  in 
different  portions  of  the  temple.  Indescribable  con- 
fusion often  reigns,  loud  voices  resound,  songs  of  one 
language  mingle  with  those  of  another.  Now  and  then 
is  heard  the  dull  thud  of  the  staff  of  a  kawass,  making 
way  for  some  procession,  or  the  clangor  of  arms,  separat- 
ing clashing  factions. 

It  is  providential  that  the  almost  impartial  Turk, 
(impartial  at  least  as  long  as  the  flow  of  bakshish  is 
not  lessened),  has  control  of  the  holiest  place  on  earth. 
Under  present  partial  ownership  of  the  church,  among 
so  many  nations  and  factions,  divine  worship  without 
this  control  would  no  doubt  become  entirely  impossible 
on  account  of  continued  quarrels. 

I  took  part  in  the  Missa  Praesanctificorum  in  com- 
pany with  the  Franciscans  and  a  goodly  number  of  pil- 
grim priests.  The  robed  and  surpliced  priests  moved 
in  procession  past  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  Latin 
sacristy  up  the  stairs  to  mount  Calvary  in  another  part 
of  the  church.  The  exact  spot  where  the  Cross  stood 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  Greek  popes,  and  their  fanaticism 
prevented  any  services  being  held  on  that  altar.  Imme- 
diately aside  of  it  is  the  altar  of  the  crucifixion — the  spot 
on  which  Jesus  was  nailed  to  the  Cross — and  this  is  in 
possession  of  the  Latin  monks.  The  usual  ceremonies 
of  Good  Friday  took  place  according  to  the  Latin  rite. 
But  the  singing  of  the  orations  and  lessons,  and  of  the 
Passion  was  considerably  mixed  with  Italian  variations, 
which  detracted  a  great  deal  from  the  beauty  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  Gregorian  chant.  The  solemn  kissing 
of  the  large  crucifix,  which  lay  on  the  exact  spot  where 
the  Son  of  God  was  nailed  to  the  Cross,  was  performed 
by  the  priests,  the  nuns  of  the  different  convents,  and 

20 


ON  GOLGOTHA. 


by  such  of  the  pilgrims  as  were  fortunate  enough  to  be 
able  to  approach.  These  ceremonies,  which  typify  the 
reality  enacted  on  this  spot,  could  not  but  deeply  im- 
press the  beholder.  Passing  out  of  the  ancient  portals 
of  the  church  into  the  square  court  or  piazza,  which  is 
paved  with  large  flagstones  and  surrounded  by  half- 
ruinous  buildings,  we  had  to  take  care  not  to  step  on  the 
heaps  of  devotional  articles  exposed  for  sale  in  every 
direction.  Near  these  gaudy  piles  of  merchandise  sat 
the  venders  and  hawkers  of  different  nationalties — Jews, 
Arabs,  Armenians,  Greeks,  and  Turks.  In  fact  all  the 
streets  in  the  neighborhood  are  only  a  continuation  of 
this  motley  bazaar.  They  charge  what  they  can  get,  and 
seem  to  do  thriving  business.  Buyers  are  always  safer 
in  offering  about  half  of  the  price  first  asked.  Money 
changers,  brooding  over  their  wire-screened  boxes,  sit 
around  on  every  corner,  ready  to  change  your  gold  or 
foreign  money  into  small  Turkish  currency.  They  take 
care  to  charge  you  enough  for  the  exchange. 

French  or  English  silver  or  gold  will  serve  very  well 
for  large  payments  of  purchases,  though  even  these  are 
accepted  only  at  a  discount ;  but  for  daily  use  you  must 
have  Turkish  money.  This  Turkish  money  is  a  grand 
scheme  of  larceny  from  the  Sultan's  throne  down  to  the 
lowest  beggar  on  the  streets.  Turkish  money  has  differ- 
ent values  according  to  the  person  you  are  dealing  with, 
and  according  to  the  circumstances  of  the  transaction. 
In  dealing  with  the  government  its  value  is  least;  the 
wholesaler  will  accept  it  at  a  less  value  than  the  retailer, 
and  the  retailer  will  shrewdly  gauge  the  value  of  the 
money  he  gets  for  his  goods  by  the  gullibility  of  the  pur- 
chaser. Moreover,  the  same  money  has  different  values 
in  different  towns  of  Turkey.  In  its  denominations  it  is 
the  most  illogical  in  existence.  In  Jerusalem,  a  medjid, 
which  is  a  piece  of  silver  about  the  size  of  our  dollar,  is 
equal  to  twenty-five  piastres,  each  one  of  these  is  equal 

21 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

to  nine  metaliques  and  one  kabach,  one  metalique  is 
equal  to  four  kabaches  and  two  and  a  half  paras.  All 
below  the  ruba-medjid,  or  quarter  of  a  medjid,  is  of  a 
base  alloy  of  copper  and  nickel,  worth  about  one-hun- 
dredth of  the  face  value.  A  bishlik  is  a  thin  piece  of 
alloy  an  inch  and  a  quarter  in  diameter,  worth  three 
piastres.  As  soon  as  you  get  outside  of  Jerusalem  you 
will  have  to  study  a  new  table  of  values  for  your  money. 
In  fact  you  will  find  that  your  money  changes  its  value 
as  often  as  you  leave  the  neighborhood  of  any  consider- 
able town  in  this  land  of  bakshish  and  fraud. 

After  services  we  paid  a  visit  to  Casa  Nova,  and  saw 
there  our  former  fellow-travelers,  Revs.  B.  and  V.  H. 
They  had  made  a  flying  trip  through  India  while  Rev. 
S.  and  Mr.  H.  had  gone  direct  from  Colombo  to  Brindisi. 
The  former  two  were  to  leave  on  the  next  day ;  they  had 
been  only  two  weeks  in  Palestine,  and  had  not  made  the 
trip  to  Nazareth  or  other  points  in  Galilee. 

The  dinner  at  the  Austrian  hospice  was  always  a 
lengthy  affair.  To  us  it  seemed  unbearable,  and  very 
often  we  left  the  table  before  the  others  were  half  through. 
I  suppose  the  slow  and  easy-going  Austrians  thought  it 
rather  strange.  They  indulged  in  great  honneurs,  when 
the  Austrian  consul  came  to  dine. 

In  the  afternoon  of  Good  Friday  the  pilgrims  and  the 
resident  Catholics  turned  out  in  great  numbers  to  make 
the  Way  of  the  Cross  on  the  Via  Dolorosa  publicly  under 
the  leadership  of  the  Franciscans.  At  each  station  one 
of  the  Fathers,  who  wore  a  long,  flowing  beard,  preached 
in  French.  The  first  station,  where  Jesus  was  con- 
demned to  death,  is  within  a  paved  court,  hemmed  in 
by  the  walls  of  an  old  church  and  other  buildings  now 
used  as  barracks.  The  second,  where  Jesus  took  upon 
Himself  the  cross,  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  a  little 
to  the  east  of  this  court,  where  the  Ecce  Homo  arch  is 
built  into  the  convent  of  the  Ratisbon  Sisters.  The 

22 


THE  SORROWFUL  WAY. 


third,  the  first  fall  under  the  Cross,  is  on  the  same  street 
in  the  united  Armenian  chapel.  Adjoining  the  Austrian 
hospice,  on  a  fork  of  the  road,  is  the  fourth  station,  the 
meeting  of  Jesus  and  Mary.  The  station  of  Simon  is  at 
the  intersection  of  a  road  leading  up  to  the  church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre;  and  that  of  Veronica  is  somewhat  up 
the  hill  on  this  road,  just  before  coming  to  the  walls  of  the 
old  city. 

Going  farther  up  the  same  road,  beneath  the  maze 
of  a  dark,  arched  passage,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
ancient  gateway,  is  the  seventh  station,  the  second  fall 
of  Jesus  under  the  Cross.  Within  a  Greek  convent  is  the 
spot  where  the  holy  women  stood  weeping ;  it  is  marked 
by  a  cross  in  the  outside  wall  of  the  convent  bordering 
the  street.  The  ninth,  the  third  fall,  is  between  the 
walls  of  the  convent  and  the  walls  of  the  church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  The  station  of  the  despoiling  of  the 
garments  is  inside  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs  of  the  Latin  chapel  of  the  cruci- 
fixion. Only  ten  steps  farther  on,  in  the  same  chapel, 
Jesus  was  nailed  to  the  cross,  the  spot  being  marked  by 
a  mosaic  cross  on  the  floor,  which  we  had  venerated  that 
morning.  The  twelfth,  the  death  of  Jesus,  is  at  the 
Greek  altar  of  this  chapel.  The  spot  where  Jesus  died 
on  His  Cross  belongs  to  the  Greek  monks,  and  is  adorned 
by  a  magnificent  bronze  crucifix.  It  must  be  understood 
that  the  two  altars,  the  Latin  and  the  Greek,  stand  side 
by  side  in  this  chapel  of  the  crucifixion  on  Mt.  Gol- 
gotha. Between  them  is  a  space  of  about  four  feet. 
Near  by,  a  statue  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa  marks  the  thir- 
teenth station.  The  fourteenth  station,  the  burial  of 
Jesus,  is  of  course  downstairs  on  the  main  floor  inside 
the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Following  the  lead  of  the  Franciscans,  a  multitude 
of  earnest  worshippers  from  all  parts  of  the  globe  made 
the  sorrowful  Way.  The  whole  courtyard  of  Pilate  and 

23 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  adjoining  streets  were  filled  with  devout  pilgrims, 
listening  to  the  short  exhortation  and  joining  in  the  pub- 
lic prayers.  The  procession  grew  larger  as  it  moved  on 
from  station  to  station.  All  were  visibly  moved  and 
hesitated  not  to  kneel  in  the  filthy  streets  and  join  the 
responses.  Conspicuous  near  the  white-bearded  Fran- 
ciscan was  always  the  tall  and  stout  figure  of  Father  V.  H. 
seemingly  more  moved  than  the  rest.  The  church  was 
much  too  small  for  the  crowds,  and  only  a  few  could 
reach  the  last  four  stations.  The  services  of  the  Latins 
on  Good  Friday  night  close  with  ten  sermons,  in  ten 
different  languages,  held  at  the  same  time  in  the  different 
portions  of  the  church.  During  these  days  many  colored 
lamps  are  lighted  over  the  holy  grave  and  in  other  parts 
of  the  basilica,  so  that  the  prophecy  of  the  scriptures, 
that  "his  grave  shall  be  glorious"  is  literally  fulfilled. 


CHAPTER  III. 

BETHLEHEM  OF  JUDA  —  JAFFA  GATE  AND  ITS  SUR- 
ROUNDINGS —  THE  CENACLE  —  CURSED  HINOM  — 
SILOA'S  POOL  IN  JOSAPHAT  VALLEY  —  JEALOUS  FA- 
NATICS—  A  SPOT  OF  CEASELESS  WAILING. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  Holy  Saturday  three  of  us 
were  seated  in  a  carriage  on  our  way  to  Bethlehem. 
The  drive  to  Bethlehem  lasts  little  longer  than  an  hour, 
and  we  soon  alighted  in  the  large  square  near  the  basilica 
of  the  Nativity.  Thither  we  went  while  Mr.  Wiltzius 
attended  to  some  business  at  the  rosary  manufactories. 
The  pealing  of  the  great  organ  filled  the  church  with 
gladsome  strains  of  victory,  and  the  Allelujas  of  the 
priests  at  the  altar  already  announced  the  great  triumph 
of  the  morrow.  As  we  intended  to  visit  Bethlehem  more 
at  leisure  later  we  took  only  a  cursory  glance  at  the 
church  and  the  caves  of  the  Nativity.  We  were  back  in 
the  city  for  dinner,  and,  having  purchased  Lievin's  guide 
through  the  Holy  Land,  we  started  out  on  our  visits  to 
remarkable  places  in  and  about  Jerusalem.  Lievin,  a 
Franciscan,  has  made  a  life-study  of  the  holy  places, 
and  is  by  far  the  best  and  the  most  reliable  author  on 
Palestine.  The  Franciscans  are  in  a  position  to  speak 
with  authority  on  holy  places,  since,  as  custodians,  they 
are  not  only  familiar  with  them,  but  are  also  likely  to  be 
cautious  in  interpreting  the  thousands  of  different  tradi- 
tions which  exist  among  the  Moslems,  Greeks,  Arme- 
nians, and  Copts  about  the  holy  places.  As  for  Baedeck- 
er's  account,  it  is  worthless  wherever  it  pretends  to  treat 
of  objects  or  traditions  dear  to  Catholic  travelers.  I 
have  more  than  once  closed  Baedecker's  guide-books 

25 


LIBRARY 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

with  disgust.  This  condemnation  he  deserves  also  in 
regard  to  holy  places  in  other  parts  of  the  world. 

We  began  our  explorations  at  the  Jaffa  gate.  This 
part  of  the  city  is  the  most  frequented,  for  here  is  the 
business  quarter  of  the  Europeans  inside  of  the  walls. 
It  is  far  from  suggesting  real  European  city  life,  for  there 
are  only  a  few  modern  buildings  wedged  in  between  old, 
crumbling  walls  and  many  native  shops. 

In  Jerusalem  one  must  get  used  to  old  walls,  narrow, 
dirty  streets  without  system  or  order.  Those  that  wish 
to  stop  at  a  hotel  will  find  one  or  two  near  the  Jaffa 
gate,  and  there  they  will  probably  get  little  accommoda- 
tion for  much  outlay.  At  the  hospice,  pilgrims  find 
abundant  fare,  good  advice,  and  moderate  expense. 
Even  if  a  pilgrim  should  not  be  able  to  pay,  the  monks 
would  probably  put  up  with  that  inconvenience,  and  let 
him  depart  in  peace.  Casa  Nova  is  not  far  from  the 
Jaffa  gate,  and  in  the  immediate  neighborbood  of  the 
principal  object  of  interest  —  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre. 

Adjoining  the  Jaffa  gate  the  old  towers  of  Phasael  of 
David,  and  of  Herod  abutt  on  the  city  walls.  They  are 
used  as  Turkish  barracks.  In  the  tower  of  David, 
probably  containing  some  of  the  oldest  remaining  walls 
of  Jerusalem,  is  still  shown  the  grated  window  near  its 
square  top,  from  which  David  is  said  to  have  cast  las- 
civious glances  at  Uriah's  wife  at  her  toilet  in  an  adjoin- 
ing house.  Here  he  is  also  believed  to  have  sorrowed 
for  his  adultery  with  her,  and  to  have  composed  many  of 
the  psalms.  Passing  along  the  street  that  runs  south- 
east in  front  of  these  towers,  we  soon  came  upon  the  ex- 
tensive Armenian  convents,  surrounded  by  large  gardens. 
Within  them  are  the  sites  of  Annas'  and  Caiphas'  houses, 
which  are  now  replaced  by  Armenian  chapels.  The 
same  street  leads  up  to  the  gate  of  Sion,  in  a  lonely  and 
unfrequented  part  of  the  city.  A  narrow  lane  outside 

26 


THE  CENACLE. 


the  walls  passes  by  the  plot  of  ground  which  the  German 
Emperor  recently  presented  to  the  Catholics  of  Jeru- 
salem. 

Some  rods  farther  on  stands  the  Coenaculum,  where 
Christ  held  the  Last  Supper.  It  is  a  complex  of  old 
square  buildings  belonging  to  the  Moslems,  who,  in 
their  own  fashion,  likewise  venerate  some  of  the  holy 
places  sanctified  by  Christ.  The  hall  of  the  Last  Supper 
is  on  even  ground  in  the  largest  of  the  ruinous  buildings, 
and  some  of  the  stone  seats  and  pillars  are  still  shown  as 
parts  of  the  structure  at  the  time  of  Christ.  The  hall 
is  about  fifty  by  thirty,  entirely  bare.  At  one  end  of  it, 
up  a  short  stairway,  is  the  entrance  to  a  smaller  room, 
where  a  few  dirty  Moslems  were  squatting.  Their  faces 
were  turned  toward  a  dark  grating  which  formed  one 
side  of  the  room.  Behind  the  grating  we  could  distin- 
guish in  the  dark,  a  catafalque,  or  some  such  thing, 
covered  with  a  black  cloth.  The  ragged  guardian  of 
the  place  said  that  it  was  the  tomb  of  David.  Nobody 
believes  it  but  the  Moslems.  Tombs  are  about  the  only 
things  these  Mussulmen  venerate ;  they  manage  to  have 
a  great  many  tombs  of  all  sorts  of  celebrities  scattered 
over  Palestine,  but  most  of  them  need  as  much  repair, 
and  are  as  much  neglected,  as  the  silly  Turkish  tradi- 
tions that  they  commemorate. 

Leaving  the  Coenaculum  we  pursued  our  way  across 
rocky,  neglected  paths,  and  miserable  patches  of  plowed 
ground,  along  the  walls  of  the  city  and  down  the  steep 
hill  toward  Siloa's  pool,  almost  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley 
of  Hinom.  The  Kedron  here  issues  from  the  Josaphat 
valley,  and  its  dried-out  bed  adjoins  this  pool  of  Siloa. 
This  pool  is  formed  by  an  embankment  across  the  ravine 
stowing  up  the  water  which  runs  through  secret  channels 
from  the  city  above.  The  old  walls  and  buildings,  which 
formerly  encompassed  this  pool,  were  excavated  some 
years  ago  by  an  English  archaeologist,  and  one  of  the 

27 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

buildings  that  came  to  light  was  an  old  Christian  church. 
But  the  Moslems  no  sooner  heard  of  the  find  than  they 
claimed  it  as  a  former  mosque,  and  they  erected  a  small 
minaret  over  the  restored  church.  The  cavernous  pas- 
sage running  up  behind  the  church  seems  to  be  an  old 
aqueduct. 

On  the  slope  of  the  opposite  hill,  which  is  a  continu- 
ation of  Mount  Olivet,  is  the  village  of  Siloam,  the  leper 
settlement.  There  the  lepers  of  Jerusalem  are  quartered, 
for  they  are  not  allowed  to  reside  in  Jerusalem.  They  are 
governed  by  a  sheik  of  their  own,  who  distributes  the 
precarious  alms  which  they  obtain  from  the  city  and 
which  they  beg  during  the  day.  Those  that  can  yet 
move  about  are  required  to  go  begging.  Numbers  of 
them  are  seen  lying  in  all  stages  of  the  dread  disease  on 
the  road  leading  up  to  St.  Stephen's  gate,  holding  up  their 
tin  cups  for  alms  to  the  passers-by.  Very  often  I  met 
these  unfortunates  on  the  road,  and  their  pitiful  moaning 
sounds  yet  in  my  ears.  Some  have  purulent  sores  where 
the  eyes  ought  to  be,  others  have  their  mouth  or  nose 
eaten  away,  some  hold  up  their  horrid  stumps  of  hands, 
from  the  festering  flesh  of  which  the  bare  bones  protrude, 
others  again  show  the  ravages  of  leprosy  on  their  exposed 
limbs.  Most  abjectly  they  lie  along  the  roadside  in  the 
sun. 

Passers-by  dread  giving  them  alms,  for  as  soon  as  they 
give  to  one  of  them,  the  whole  crowd  will  begin  to  gather 
around  him,  demanding,  as  of  right,  an  equal  gift.  They 
seem  to  have  little  regard  for  one's  fear  of  infection,  and 
some  will  purposely  seek  contact  with  the  clothes  or  hands 
of  healthy  persons,  probably  out  of  a  see-ret  desire  to 
make  others  sharers  of  their  disease.  Some  Sisters  of 
Charity  make  regular  visits  to  Siloam  in  order  to  do  what 
good  they  can  to  the  unfortunate  sufferers. 

In  quite  a  roundabout  way  we  clambered  up  the  hill 
back  to  a  place  where  the  small  postern  gate  of  bab  el 

28 


JEALOUS  FANATICS. 


Mukraba  pierces  the  city  wall.  Inside  of  this  gate  lies 
a  large  tract  of  waste  land,  covered  with  ruins,  garbage, 
and  sickly  cactus  plants.  To  our  right  in  front  of  us 
stood  some  of  the  old  temple  walls  on  Mount  Moria; 
to  our  left  the  Jewish  quarters  on  Mount  Sion.  Having 
then  reached  the  crumbling  habitations,  and  the  narrow, 
intricate  lanes  beyond  this  plot  of  waste  land,  we  sud- 
denly came  upon  some  high  portals,  beyond  which  we 
were  surprised  to  see  a  large  open  ground,  covered  with 
grass  in  some  parts,  not  unlike  a  neglected  park.  It 
certainly  is  a  rare  sight  in  Jerusalem  to  see  any  kind  of 
vegetation,  for  one  meets  nothing  but  crumbling  walls, 
half  inhabited  ruins,  dirty  streets,  and  ragged  inhabitants. 
Hence  we  were  not  slow  in  pushing  forward  to  enter  the 
gates  of  this  paradise.  But  no  sooner  had  we  attempted 
to  set  our  foot  inside  than  a  shaggy  Arab  woman  began 
to  scream  at  the  top  of  her  voice.  The  first  impulse  of 
this  dark  fury  was  to  rush  at  us,  but  on  second  thought 
she  flew  with  disheveled  hair  and  murderous  screams 
into  the  arcades  of  the  high  walls  to  our  right,  and  soon 
brought  out  a  bevy  of  fierce  Arabs,  whom  she  harangued, 
making  violent  gestures  towards  us.  We  had  unwittingly 
entered  the  Harem  es  Sherif ,  now  the  holy  grounds  of  the 
Moslems,  but  formerly  the  ancient  temple  plateau  of  the 
Jews.  Here  on  the  site  of  the  old  Jewish  temple  stands 
the  Omar  mosque,  which  they  esteem  as  little  inferior  to 
the  one  in  Mecca,  and  on  the  southern  end  of  the  temple 
ground  rises  the  mosque  El  Akseh,  which  is  a  vast 
basilica  built  by  the  crusaders  on  the  site  of  Solomon's 
palaces.  It  would  have  meant  nothing  short  of  throwing 
our  lives  away  to  attempt  entrance  past  the  gathering 
crowd  of  fanatics.  They  eyed  us  with  fierce,  growing 
anger,  and  vented  it  in  furious  inprecation.  We  turned 
out  of  the  passage,  and  soon  came  upon  the  Wailing  Wall 
of  the  Jews,  which  had  been  really  our  objective  point, 
and  which  we  knew  to  be  somewhere  hereabout.  It  is  a 

29 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

lonely  place,  where  the  ancient  walls  rise  about  thirty 
feet  and  overlook  a  waste  of  smaller  ruins  at  their  base. 
A  narrow  passage  has  been  cleared  from  encumbering 
ruins  for  about  forty  feet  at  the  base  of  the  great  wall,  so 
that  one  can  approach  the  old  foundation-stones,  on 
which  the  newer  wall  is  reared.  There  they  stood, 
about  twenty  Jewish  men  and  women,  abjectly  poor, 
leaning  their  faces  against  the  huge  foundation-stones, 
moaning  and  shedding  tears  in  their  loud  prayers  for  the 
rebuilding  of  the  temple,  and  the  return  of  long  past  glory. 
It  is  indeed  an-  indescribably  sad  sight  to  see  the  descend- 
ants of  that  chosen  people,  who  had  received  this  land 
from  the  Almighty  helplessly  wailing  and  sighing  at 
those  ruined  walls.  Vain  regrets  of  a  stubborn  race,  who 
heeded  not  the  warnings  of  their  God  and  their  great 
prophet  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  time  of  their  visitation! 
When  will  they  come  to  consider  that  He  whose  blood 
they  had  called  down  upon  their  heads  and  upon  their 
children  had  overlookd  this  very  wall  from  the  heights 
of  yonder  Mount  Olivet,  and  had  shed  as  bitter  tears  as 
theirs  at  the  ruins  which  He  foresaw,  and  which  they 
were  now  bewailing?  There  is  not  any  better  proof  of 
the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion  in  history  than  the 
existence  to  this  day  of  the  God  repudiating  and  God- 
repudiated  race,  who  then  foreswore  their  Messiah  and 
now,  by  their  wailing  and  vain  endeavors,  proclaim  the 
dire  fulfillment  of  His  prophecy.  It  is  a  consolation 
to  know  that  the  other  prophecy  will  also  be  fulfilled 
before  the  end  comes ;  namely,  that  the  remnants  of  the 
house  of  Israel  will  be  gathered  into  the  one  fold  of  Jesus 
Christ  where  they  belong.  So  let  them  wail  out  their 
prayers  leaning  on  these  old  walls ;  God  will  in  time  hear 
them,  not  in  the  way  they  now  expect,  but  according  to 
the  magnitude  of  His  mercy. 

In  the  crevices  of  this  wall  many  nails  had  been  driven, 
for  it  is  their  custom  to  bring  nails  and  drive  them  into 

30 


AT  THE  SEPULCHRE. 


this  wall  in  order  to  induce  the  Lord  to  rebuild  the 
temple.  Some  of  them  held  up  to  us  tin  boxes  for  alms  for 
the  restoration  of  the  temple,  or  perhaps  for  themselves. 
Leaving  this  place  of  sorrow,  we  were  surrounded  by 
a  bevy  of  children,  in  one  of  the  narrow  lanes,  asking  for 
bakshish.  Only  rapid  flight  will  save  the  stranger  from 
being  swamped  by  crowds  of  these  beggars,  if  he  has 
been  incautious  enough  to  give  alms  to  one  of  them  in 
the  presence  of  others.  Towards  evening,  through  many 
winding  streets  and  bazaars,  we  found  our  way  back  to 
the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Here  good  Father  Joseph  readily 
accommodated  us  in  regard  to  the  confession,  which  is 
necessary  for  the  gaining  of  the  indulgences  of  the  pil- 
grimage. Afterwards  we  managed  to  worm  our  way 
into  the  interior  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in  spite  of  the 
immense  crowds.  But  as  the  time  allowed  each  one 
was  so  short  as  to  preclude  a  closer  inspection,  I  prefer 
to  describe  it  later  on.  About  midnight  we  went  again 
to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in  order  to  be  present 
at  the  midnight  services.  The  whole  vast  interior  was 
gloriously  illumined  by  the  multitude  of  colored  lamps, 
especially  around  the  grave.  If  the  Franciscans,  who 
are  mostly  Italians,  had  adhered  more  strictly  to  ap- 
proved Gregorian  chant,  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion 
would  have  been  much  heightened. 

We  did  not  stay  till  the  end  of  the  Resurrection  services, 
but  after  an  hour  or  so  we  returned  through  the  moonlit 
streets  to  the  hospice. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EAST  AND  WEST  IN  JERUSALEM  —  ON  MOUNT  OLIVET  — 
AT  THE  GERMAN  HOSPICE  —  IN  CAVALCADE  TO 
EMMAUS  —  NEBI  SAMOUIL  AND  KUBEBE  —  Six 
CENTURIES  or  FRANCISCAN  CUSTODIANSHIP. 

I  said  my  first  Mass  in  the  Holy  Land  on  Easter 
day,  in  the  Latin  chapel  at  the  altar  of  the  column  of 
the  flagellation.  Afterwards  we  strolled  through  the 
neglected  streets  between  the  Damascus  and  the  New 
gate.  Among  the  ruinous  houses  we  found  an  Armenian 
chapel  dedicated  to  St.  Cyprian. 

Immediately  adjoining  the  New  gate,  which  is  half- 
way between  the  Jaffa  and  the  Damascus  gate,  is  the 
newly  built  institute  of  the  Christian  Brothers  for  Boys ; 
outside  is  the  convent  of  the  Sisters  of  Notre  Dame,  a 
modern  building.  The  porter  of  this  convent  invited  us 
to  enter  and  look  at  the  fine  chapel;  the  front  walls, 
particularly  in  the  sanctuary,  are  beautifully  decorated 
with  Mosaics.  The  settlements  of  different  nationali- 
ties, or  rather  of  different  religious  denominations,  are 
in  this  neighborhood  west  of  the  city  walls.  These 
buildings  for  religious  and  charitable  purposes  are  mostly 
of  recent  construction.  The  largest  settlements  are  those 
of  the  Russians  and  the  Catholics.  The  Protestant 
deaconesses  conduct  a  hospital,  and  the  German  Tem- 
plars, a  religious  colony  coming  from  Wuertemberg,  have 
settled  here  and  have  large  establishments.  To  the 
south  and  to  the  north  of  the  city,  the  territory  is  yet  free 
of  settlements,  but  to  the  northeast  on  the  summit  of 
Mount  Olivet,  the  Russians  have  erected  a  large  monas- 
tery and  church.  A  separate  tower,  rising  200  feet  above 

33 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  summit  of  the  mount,  commands  the  whole  country 
far  and  wide.  The  Russian  government,  under  the 
cloak  of  private  enterprise  of  their  Greek  monks,  has 
established  its  influence  firmly  in  the  whole  of  Palestine. 
Yearly  pilgrimages  from  Russia  are  encouraged,  and 
heavily  subsidized  by  the  government  so  as  to  familiarize 
thousands  of  the  simple  Russian  peasants  with  the  Holy 
Land.  They  return  to  their  native  country  eager  to  see 
Russia  obtain  the  lion's  share  in  any  future  partition  of 
Turkey  by  war.  When  once  it  shall  become  necessary, 
Russia  wrill  find  no  trouble  in  raising  a  mighty  army  for 
the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Land.  The  Russian  peasantry 
will  rise  as  one  man  for  such  a  crusade.  Thus  Russia 
shows  herself  by  far  the  most  shrewd  and  far-sighted 
among  the  European  nations  in  regard  to  future  Oriental 
spoils. 

We  did  not  proceed  much  farther  just  then,  but 
returned  to  the  hospice  in  order  to  await  the  visit  of  Revs. 
Blockmann  and  Rohde  from  Wisconsin,  who  had  prom- 
ised to  make  arrangements  with  us  for  to-morrow's  trip 
to  Emmaus;  but  after  waiting  a  few  hours  in  vain  we 
again  sallied  forth,  this  time  in  an  opposite  direction, 
toward  St.  Stephen's  gate.  The  street  running  past  our 
hospice  forms  a  direct  thoroughfare  northeast  and  south- 
west between  the  Damascus  and  the  St.  Stephen's  gates. 

Not  far  from  the  Austrian  hospice  on  that  road  is  the 
fine  chapel  of  the  Franciscans,  erected  on  the  spot  where 
Jesus  was  scourged.  Within  the  same  grounds  is  also  the 
place  of  the  crowning  with  thorns.  In  the  chapel  of  the 
flagellation  several  lamps  burn  continually.  Connected 
with  these  sacred  spots,  in  a  convent  near  by,  is  also  the 
novitiate  of  the  Franciscans.  Just  before  coming  upon 
St.  Stephen's  gate,  one  meets  the  church  of  St.  Anne, 
restored  from  the  same  stones  of  which  the  old  church 
of  the  Crusaders  had  been  built.  The  windows  are  of 
colored  glass,  very  neatly  fitted  into  stone  frames.  Under 

34 


MOUNT  OLIVET. 


the  main  church  is  the  crypt,  where,  according  to  the 
revelations  of  Mary  of  Agreda,  the  Virgin  was  conceived 
without  sin.  It  consists  of  several  chambers  with  altars, 
and  the  original  bare  rocks  of  the  caves  are  still  seen  in 
some  places.  The  rest  of  the  rock  is  veneered  with 
marble.  Facing  the  church  is  the  pool  of  Bethestha, 
under  the  vaults  of  an  ancient  church.  It  now  resem- 
bles a  spacious  underground  cavern  half-filled  with 
water.  The  large  buildings  neighboring  to  the  church 
are  the  convent  and  seminary  of  the  white  Fathers, 
founded  by  Cardinal  Lavigerie  for  the  African  missions. 

One  of  the  white-robed  Fathers  just  then  stepped  out 
of  the  gate  in  order  to  give  benediction  of  the  Bl.  Sacra- 
ment at  the  convent  of  the  cloistered  Carmelite  Nuns  on 
the  summit  of  Mount  Olivet.  We  gladly  accepted  his 
invitation  to  accompany  him.  Our  way  led  us  through 
St.  Stephen's  gate,  down  the  hill  to  the  ledge  of  rocks 
on  which  St.  Stephen  was  stoned,  and  from  there  past 
Gethsemane  up  the  hill.  Near  the  summit  stands  the 
convent  and  church  of  the  Pater  Noster.  They  are  a 
reconstruction  of  the  buildings  put  up  six  hundred  years 
ago  by  the  Crusaders.  Some  of  the  foundation-walls 
date  back  even  to  the  time  of  St.  Helena.  In  fact,  very 
few  of  the  buildings  and  ruins  commemorating  noted 
places  in  Palestine  are  without  traces  of  former  struct- 
ures, erected  at  the  time  of  St.  Helena  in  the  fourth  cen- 
tury, or  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades  in  the  twelfth.  Most 
of  them,  however,  are  buried  many  feet  beneath  debris 
and  soil  accumulations.  We  remained  for  benediction, 
and  afterwards  bought  some  mementoes  from  the  very 
businesslike  Sister  that  attends  to  the  temporal  affairs  of 
the  cloister.  The  others  never  leave  the  house,  nor  con- 
verse with  anybody  except  through  a  thick,  iron-spiked 
screen. 

Their  church  is  on  the  spot  where  our  Lord  taught  the 
Our  Father.  Farther  down  the  hill  is  another  church, 

35 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

which  commemorates  the  place  where  the  apostles  com- 
posed the  creed,  each  one  being  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  pronounce  one  of  the  articles.".  From  these 
heights  the  city  of  Jerusalem  is  seen  spread  out  before 
the  view.  In  the  foreground,  on  the  opposite  heights  of 
Moria,  lies  the  temple  plateau  with  the  mosque  of  Omar, 
behind  these  a  tangled,  irregular  maze  of  low,  flat-roofed 
buildings.  Most  of  them  are  ruinous,  and  small  cupolas 
rise  like  hummocks  above  the  flat  part  of  the  roofs. 
For  in  Palestine  the  roofs  are  mostly  vaulted  masonry, 
without  any  wooden  beams.  From  the  temple  enclosure 
the  old  city  walls  zigzag  around  right  and  left  to  the 
tower  of  David  on  Mount  Zion,  peering  above  the  farther 
side  of  the  city.  The  circumference  of  the  walls  cannot 
be  more  than  three  or  four  miles,  since  an  hour  and  half 
fully  suffices  for  a  walk  around  the  whole  city. 

We  returned  to  the  hospice  for  supper,  and  afterwards 
followed  the  lead  of  Mr.  Wiltzius  to  the  German  hospice 
outside  the  walls  behind  the  Templar  settlement.  Some 
fifteen  or  sixteen  priests  from  the  United  States  were 
quartered  there,  being  members  of  the  German  caravan 
from  Cologne,  making  the  tour  of  the  Holy  Land.  Our 
intention  was  to  make  arrangements  for  accompanying 
the  caravan  to  Emmaus  on  the  morrow,  the  day  just 
befitting  such  an  excursion.  Mr.  Wiltzius,  who  had 
visited  them  that  morning,  got  badly  mixed  up  in  his 
bearings.  It  was  already  dark  as  we  passed  through 
the  Damascus  gate,  and  instead  of  arriving  at  the  German 
hospice,  we  came  to  the  French  consulate  and  to  the 
Protestant  hospital  in  another  settlement.  Though  the 
deaconesses  gave  us  very  kind  and  explicit  directions, 
we  had  great  trouble  to  find  the  German  hospice. 

The  members  of  the  caravan  were  at  supper,  and  the 
leader  of  it  was  just  giving  instructions  regarding  next 
day's  excursion.  We  were  invited  for  supper,  and  read- 
ily obtained  their  consent  to  make  the  trip  to  Emmaus 

36 


TO   KUBEBE. 


with  them.  Mr.  Wiltzius,  however,  and  two  of  the 
priests  had  already  become  tired  of  Palestine  life,  and 
arranged  to  take  the  train  back  to  Jaffa  in  the  morning. 
The  German  hospice  is  an  extensive  building  surrounded 
by  fine  gardens.  All  the  guests  seemed  highly  pleased 
with  the  accommodations.  The  only  drawback  they 
mentioned  being  the  distance  from  the  church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  The  Austrian  hospice,  where  we 
lodged,  is  only  ten  minutes'  walk  from  that  basilica, 
while  Casa  Nova,  the  Franciscan  hospice,  is  in  the 
immediate  vicinity. 

On  Easter  Monday  I  said  Mass  in  the  church  of  St. 
Anne  near  Stephen's  gate,  on  the  spot  where  the  Mother 
of  God  was  conceived  without  sin.  I  was  afraid,  of 
coming  too  late  to  start  out  with  the  caravan  to  Emmaus, 
but  we  arrived  at  the  German  hospice  long  before  the 
party  could  be  gotten  ready.  Most  of  them  were  not 
out  of  their  beds.  My  companion  and  myself  happened 
to  get  the  sorriest  nags  of  the  cavalcade,  and  our  saddles 
were  of  the  clumsiest.  My  beast  had  a  tender  mouth, 
which  the  barbarous  bridles  of  the  Arabs  had  chafed 
into  a  bleeding  sore.  Nevertheless  they  plodded  bravely 
on  with  the  rest,  over  rolling  stones  and  rugged  ravines 
on  the  worn  bridle-paths.  To  call  the  way  to  Emmaus 
a  road,  or  even  a  decent  trail,  would  not  enter  into  the 
mind  of  the  wildest  mountaineers  of  the  United  States. 
It  is  nothing  else  than  a  succession  of  loose  stones, 
rough  rocks,  and  rain-worn  water-courses,  left  to  the 
wear  and  tear  of  many  centuries.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  the  roads  I  traveled  afterwards  alone  to  Naplouse. 
The  horses  stumbled  on  for  an  hour  and  half  until  we 
reached  the  summit  of  a  high  hill,  crowned  by  a  small 
mosque  and  a  minaret.  The  Moslems  call  it  Nebi 
Samouil,  or  tomb  of  Samuel.  Inside  the  bare  mosque, 
under  a  sort  of  alcove,  is  a  wooden  box  covered  with  a 
pall,  which  the  Mohammedans  venerate  as  the  grave  of 

37 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  great  prophet  Samuel.  The  ragged,  bakshish-hunt- 
ing keeper  insisted  on  our  taking  off  our  shoes  before 
entering;  but  most  of  the  party  were  satisfied  to  look 
in  through  the  door.  From  the  top  of  the  minaret  we 
had  a  grand  view  of  distant  Jerusalem,  Mount  Olivet, 
the  plains  of  Jericho,  and  the  Dead  Sea  to  the  east. 
To  the  west  glimmered  the  blue  Mediterranean,  and  over 
the  plains  of  Samaria  to  the  northwest,  the  woody  heights 
of  Carmel  intercepted  the  view  of  the  seashore. 

An  hour's  further  rugged  travel  brought  us  to  the 
gates  of  Kubebe,  or  Emmaus  convent.  In  front  of  them 
stood  a  crowd  of  pilgrims  who  had  come  afoot,  some 
Franciscan  Fathers,  and,  glibly  conversing  with  them,  our 
eccentric  fellow-passenger  of  the  Britannia,  Mr.  Clark. 

Beside  the  director  of  the  caravan,  we  had  a  stout, 
Christian  Turk  as  dragoman,  whose  family  lived  near 
the  convent.  He  was  a  jolly  soul,  gorgeously  fitted 
out  in  a  kawass  uniform.  He  insisted  that  the  whole 
caravan  should  pay  a  visit  to  his  wife  and  children. 
Before  making  a  closer  inspection  of  the  convents,  the 
director  of  the  caravan  also  wished  us  to  inspect  the  vine- 
yards and  other  property  bought  here  by  the  "Deutsche 
Palestina  Verein."  The  object  of  the  Palestina  So- 
ciety was  to  start  colonies  here  and  in  some  other  places 
of  the  Holy  Land.  The  director  was  full  of  enthusiasm, 
and  tried  to  make  us  believe  that  Kubebe  is  an  ideal  site 
for  a  summer  resort,  and  that  the  vineyards  would  bring 
large  returns.  They  have  converted  the  stony  hillside 
into  a  vineyard,  and  planted  a  few  fig  trees;  but  the 
expenses  have  already  exceeded  by  far  the  prospective 
gain.  It  certainly  does  not  seem  probable  that  they 
can  induce  colonists  to  settle  here  for  any  length  of  time, 
or  that  a  summer  resort  will  ever  flourish  in  a  rocky 
desert,  without  water  and  without  shade.  The  Ameri- 
cans had  but  slight  confidence  in  the  success  of  the 
venture  in  spite  of  the  enthusiasm  of  the  director.  So 

38 


THE  FRANCISCANS. 


far  the  Franciscans  are  the  only  settlers.  They  have 
erected  a  spacious  monastery  on  the  foundation  of  an 
older  one  dating  back  to  the  time  of  the  Crusaders,  using 
it  for  a  scholasticate  for  the  education  of  their  members. 

Our  caravan  and  the  other  pilgrims  partook  of  a 
dinner  in  the  large  refectory  of  the  Monks.  There  must 
have  been  some  two  hundred  at  the  table.  After  dinner 
they  scattered  about  the  gardens  and  under  the  open 
cloisters,  like  a  crowd  of  picnickers.  Among  them 
was  a  grey-headed  German,  who  caused  no  small  diver- 
sion by  imitating  the  cries  of  all  sorts  of  animals.  All 
the  guests  of  the  good  Fathers  seemed  to  enjoy  themselves 
very  well.  Mr.  Clark,  the  defrocked  Anglican  minister, 
was  already  very  intimate  with  one  of  the  unsuspecting 
fathers.  After  resting  for  a  while  one  of  the  Franciscans 
conducted  the  visitors  to  the  remains  of  the  church  and 
convent  built  in  the  twelfth  century.  The  excavations 
showed  that  they  were  extensive. 

I  may  as  well  make  mention  of  the  zeal  of  the  Fran- 
ciscans in  preserving  and  restoring  the  holy  places  in 
Palestine.  Especially  in  the  last  half  century  has  this 
pious  work  made  progress  in  numerous  places  of  the 
Holy  Land.  Only  those  somewhat  acquainted  with 
the  run  of  affairs  in  Turkish  countries  can  have  a  proper 
estimate  of  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  in  such  an 
undertaking.  The  Franciscans  have  withstood  the 
persecution  of  six  centuries,  meeting  not  only  the  cruelty 
and  rapacity  of  the  Moslems,  but  the  ceaseless  strata- 
gems of  orthodox  Greeks  or  Russians,  Armenians,  Copts, 
Jews,  and  Protestants,  who  pursue  them  with  their  envy 
and,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  try  to  come  into  possession 
of  memorable  places  in  charge  of  the  Latins.  The 
rights  which  the  above-mentioned  schismatics,  heretics, 
and  Turks  claim  in  the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
and  in  many  other  places,  have  been  obtained  entirely 
by  intrigue  and  by  confiscations,  manipulated  by  in- 

39 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

fluential  partisans  in  government  circles.  Time  and 
again  the  Franciscans  have  purchased  locations,  only  to 
see  them  wrested  from  their  hands  as  soon  as  they  had 
erected  their  buildings,  or  find  themselves  forced  to  pay 
the  purchase  price  over  again  as  new  Pashas  came  into 
power.  That  mere  envy  or  avarice  is  the  cause  of  these 
outrages  is  evident  from  the  foul  neglect  and  decay 
into  which  many  holy  places  are  allowed  to  fall  after 
being  wrested  from  the  Catholics.  Whereas  the  most 
pious  care  and  devotion  is  everywhere  seen  in  the  holy 
places  that  are  in  the  charge  of  the  Latins,  the  contrary 
is  often  the  case  with  those  that  are  in  other  hands. 

We  asked  Father  Joseph,  at  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  (and  he  has  spent  there  most  of  his  life),  why 
the  great  rotunda  over  the  Tomb  in  that  church  was  not 
kept  in  better  repair.  He  told  us  that  the  Greek  papas 
will  not  permit  the  Franciscans  to  make  any  repairs 
even  at  their  own  cost,  and  will  rather  let  the  church  fall 
into  ruins  than  co-operate  with  the  Latins  in  restoring  it. 
No  doubt  they  are  in  hopes  of  obtaining  sole  proprietor- 
ship of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in  course  of  time.  From  all 
this  it  will  be  seen  that  the  collections  for  the  Holy  Land, 
taken  up  every  year  all  over  the  world,  are  very  necessary 
and  well  applied.  They  enable  the  Franciscans  and 
other  religious  orders  to  maintain  the  custody  of  holy 
places  and  reliable  traditions  about  them.  The  Francis- 
cans have  certainly,  in  a  special  manner,  earned  the 
title  of  custodians  of  the  Holy  Land  by  their  pious  zeal 
during  six  centuries.  Were  it  not  for  them  it  is  doubt- 
ful, whether  any  vestige  would  remain  of  most  of  the 
holy  places  in  Palestine. 

Rested  and  well  entertained,  we  again  bestrode  our 
horses  and  returned  cityward  on  a  different  route.  After 
climbing  over  a  few  hills,  and  following  a  trail  over  some 
fields  past  a  ruinous  village,  we  gained  the  Jaffa  road. 
This  is  as  fine  a  road  as  you  would  find  anywhere.  It 

40 


EN  CAVALIER. 


was  built  for  the  retinue  of  the  German  Emperor,  at  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  four  or  five  years  ago.  The  same 
may  be  said  also  of  the  road  to  Jericho,  to  Bethlehem, 
and  of  the  one  from  Haipha  to  Nazareth.  To  our  left, 
as  we  followed  the  winding  road  to  Jerusalem,  we  saw 
many  of  the  foot-passengers  straggling  homeward  from 
Emmaus  over  the  hills  and  valleys.  Long  before  we 
got  to  Jerusalem  I  suspect  many  of  us  gallant  cavaliers 
were  secretly  wishing  to  exchange  our  chafing  saddle- 
seats  for  the  comfort  of  our  empty  chairs  in  the  hospice. 
But  not  all  of  our  spirit  had  as  yet  fled,  for  we  made  an 
attempt  to  gallop  into  Jerusalem  in  serried  ranks  of  three 
abreast.  However,  the  gallant  onset  ended  in  confusion 
long  before  the  end  of  our  journey,  for  instead  of  one  or 
two  blocks  it  was  still  nearly  a  mile  to  the  hospice. 

That  evening  after  supper  I  wrote  seventy-five  postal 
cards,  as  greetings  to  friends  at  home. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TANGLED  STREETS  —  RUINS  AND  FILTH  EVERYWHERE 
—  PLANNING  A  RUSE  ON  THE  BEDOUINS  —  PRISON- 
ERS OF  THE  HOLY  SEPULCHRE  —  THE  HOLY  SACRI- 
FICE AT  THE  MOST  SACRED  SHRINE  ON  EARTH. 

Next  day  I  had  the  privilege  of  reading  Mass  on  the 
altar  of  the  crucifixion  on  Mount  Calvary.  After  bid- 
ding God-speed  to  Mr.  Wiltzius,  who  that  morning 
started  on  his  return  to  Brindisi,  we  strolled  out  the 
Damascus  gate  to  visit  the  caves  or  quarries  of  Solomon. 
These  caves  honeycomb  the  whole  northwestern  portion 
of  Jerusalem.  We  preferred,  however,  to  return  into 
the  city,  and  explore  the  corresponding  quarter  above 
ground.  The  streets  are  a  puzzling  tangle.  A  number 
of  them  are  paved  with  cobble-stones,  the  steeper 
grades  are  terraced.  A  few  are  twelve  feet  wide, 
most  of  the  others  are  much  narrower;  only  two  of 
them  are  wide  enough  to  permit  the  passage  of  a  wagon 
or  carriage  for  a  short  distance.  Sometimes  a  few  of 
the  more  frequented  streets  are  swept;  outside  streets 
are  left  in  dirt  and  filth.  Bazaars  are  only  on  four 
or  five  streets,  principally  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  The  other  streets  pre- 
sent a  most  desolate  condition.  No  attempt  at  archi- 
tectural beauty  is  visible,  except  on  the  new  buildings  of 
Europeans,  of  which  there  are  not  many  in  old  Jerusalem. 
They  do  not  indulge  in  front  parlors  in  Jerusalem;  the 
furniture  in  the  houses  of  ordinary  inhabitants  are  on  a 
par  with  the  outside  of  their  habitations — a  mat  or  two  to 
lie  on,  a  stone  fireplace  from  which  the  smoke  very  often 
passes  out  through  the  vaulted  ceiling  or  ruinous  crevices. 

43 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

The  present  Jerusalem  is  really  only  a  collection  of  old 
walls  and  enclosures,  still  standing  over  the  many  layers 
of  ruins  piled  up  twenty  feet  above  the  original  soil. 

Bare,  crumbling  walls  of  old  structures,  without 
windows,  and  no  visible  doors,  mere  remnants  precari- 
ously covered  with  a  low  roof,  line  the  passages  most  of 
the  way.  Wherever  a  recess  in  the  walls  or  an  arched 
subway  over  the  streets  afford  seclusion  garbage  and 
excrement  litter  the  ground.  This  is  especially  the  case 
where  Turks  or  Jews  inhabit.  When  I  was  told  that 
cleanliness  has  much  improved  in  the  last  ten  years,  I 
wondered  how  Jerusalem  must  have  looked  before  that 
time. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  a  teskere  or  vise  for 
my  tour  to  Nazareth.  I  intended  to  make  this  tour 
alone,  and  in  Arab  or  Bedouin  garb.  The  sun  had 
tanned  my  features  considerably  >  and  I  was  the  proud 
owner  of  a  stubby  black  beard ;  hence  I  thought  that  I 
could  easily  pass  for  an  Arab  sheik.  Everybody  main- 
tained that  a  single  European  traveler  would  never  pass 
the  gauntlet  of  Bedouin  nomads,  as  he  was  in  danger  of 
being  held  up  and  robbed  even  of  his  clothes.  Why  not 
steal  a  march  on  these  marauders  in  their  own  guise  ?  I 
asked.  But  all  those  to  whom  I  mentioned  my  project 
thought  this  latter  more  preposterous  and  dangerous  than 
the  former,  so  that  I  had  to  keep  it  a  secret  until  the 
time  of  my  departure. 

During  the  day  we  completed  our  purchase  of  a  large 
number  of  articles  as  presents  to  friends  in  America.  The 
native  dealers  made,  or  at  least  pretended  to  make,  a 
large  reduction  on  their  price  in  view  of  doing  business 
with  Mr.  Wiltzius,  by  whom  we  had  been  introduced  on 
a  former  occasion.  The  devotional  articles,  especially 
rosaries,  which  are  manufacured  here  and  in  Bethlehem 
in  great  quantities,  seem  cheap  enough,  but  duty  on 
them  in  the  United  States  is  proportionately  heavy. 

44 


EARLY  MASS. 


In  order  to  celebrate  Mass  on  the  tomb  of  the  Saviour, 
pilgrim  priests  must,  as  a  rule,  take  lodging  over  night 
with  the  Franciscan  Fathers  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  itself.  All  the  doors  of  the  church  are  locked 
by  the  Turkish  guard  at  a  certain  hour  of  the  night.  The 
inmates,  that  is,  the  Latin  and  the  Greek  Monks  attached 
to  the  church,  are  then  prisoners  until  the  Church  is  again 
opened  in  the  morning.  The  opening  of  the  Church  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  costs  ten  francs  every  time,  and  this 
sum  is  to  be  paid  to  a  Turkish  family  by  the  different 
religious  denominations,  who  request  the  opening  of  the 
church.  It  is  easily  understood,  that  on  this  account 
the  Franciscans  are  most  heavily  bled,  for  the  Latin 
pilgrims,  who  are  the  most  numerous,  must  be  oftenest 
accommodated.  The  Latin  Monks  have  exclusive  right 
of  services  every  day  until  seven  o'clock,  after  that  the 
Greeks  have  their  turn.  But  the  Turkish  soldiers  will 
not  admit  even  a  priest  before  eight  o'clock,  the  time  set 
for  opening  the  church.  Hence  the  only  alternative  for 
a  Catholic  priest,  who  wishes  to  celebrate  on  the  tomb  of 
the  Saviour,  is  to  have  himself  locked  up  with  the  Fran- 
ciscans over  night. 

We  partook  of  the  frugal  supper,  and  were  conducted 
to  the  cells  upstairs.  Father  Joseph  entertained  us 
with  a  pleasant  chat  until  we  went  to  sleep,  happy  pris- 
oners of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  next  day  I  had  the  hap- 
piness of  celebrating  Mass  on  the  holiest  and  most  re- 
markable spot  on  earth ;  for  which  all  thanks  be  to  Him 
who  rested  there  in  death,  and  who  rose  gloriously  trium- 
phant from  this  tomb.  My  companion  entered  with 
me  into  the  low  vault  to  serve  my  Mass,  but  the  Francis- 
can Brother,  seeing  him  rather  unfamiliar  with  his  duty 
as  an  acolyte,  unceremoniously  supplanted  him  at  the 
offertory.  Several  women  received  holy  communion  at 
my  hands  through  the  low  entrance  of  the  Tomb.  It 

45 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

was  indeed  a  great  privilege  to  offer  up  the  great  sacrifice 
on  the  very  spot  where  the  faith  and  hope  of  all  Christ- 
endom was  made  certain. 

PRACTICAL  HINTS.  In  Jerusalem  it  is  better  to  lodge  in  one 
of  the  hospices.  The  most  convenient  for  those  that  wish  to  see 
something  of  Catholic  services  is  the  Casa  Nova  of  the  Franciscan 
or  the  Austrian  hospice.  The  Brothers  will  also  be  of  great 
assistance  in  procuring  good  guides,  and  in  preventing  exorbitant 
charges.  The  fare  in  these  hospices  is  all  that  can  be  desired,  and 
the  remuneration  asked  is  very  moderate.  Those  that  wish  to  see 
the  holy  places  thoroughly  should  make  a  sort  of  outline  or  plan 
suited  to  the  time  of  their  stay,  and  to  the  amount  of  exertion  they 
intend  to  undergo.  Of  course  every  one  likes  to  take  along  some 
mementoes  and  relics  of  the  Holy  Land.  For  Catholics  there  is 
a  vast  assortment  of  rosaries,  medals,  crucifixes;  these,  blessed 
at  the  Holy  Sepulchre  and  Bethlehem,  will  afterwards  no  doubt 
serve  as  the  most  valuable  mementoes  for  their  friends  and  them- 
selves. The  real  value  of  such  mementoes  is  often  not  realized 
until  one  is  thousands  of  miles  from  the  place  where  they  were 
perhaps  hastily  obtained  in  the  excitement  of  sight-seeing.  But 
at  home  they  will  bring  back  the  memory  of  strange  surroundings 
and  incidents  of  the  time  and  place  of  their  purchase. 


IN   ARAB   COSTUME 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  BEDOUIN  GARB  —  A  BIVOUAC  ON  JUDEAN  HILLS  — 
ROUGHING  IT  —  CAUSING  A  SCARE  —  BEITIN,  ONCE 
BETHEL  —  PANIC  IN  A  HAREM  —  LUXURIES  OF  AN 
ARAB  HOME. 

After  securing  a  teskere  through  the  aid  of  the  Amer- 
ican consul,  and  procuring  a  Bedouin  outfit  through  the 
help  of  Ali,  our  kawass  of  the  hospice,  I  made  prepara- 
tions to  leave  alone  and  on  foot  for  Nazareth.  As  I  did 
not  want  to  listen  to  any  more  discussion,  the  Arab 
clothes  were  smuggled  into  the  porter's  room  by  the  help 
of  Ali,  and  after  dinner  I  arrayed  myself  as  a  Bedouin 
sheik  for  the  journey.  The  under-garment  is  a  long, 
sleeveless  cotton  shirt,  reaching  nearly  to  the  heels.  Over 
this  is  thrown  an  upper  garment  of  striped  material,  and 
somewhat  like  a  cassock,  the  two  front  flaps  of  which  are 
buttoned  only  at  the  neck,  and  are  held  together  in  the 
middle  by  a  sash.  Over  all  this  is  thrown  the  haik,  a 
loose  mantle,  with  openings  in  the  sides  for  the  arms. 
The  head  covering  is  a  tarbush,  consisting  of  a  large 
square  kerchief  with  fringed  edges.  It  is  thrown  over 
the  head  and  fastened  by  a  rope  of  camel's  hair;  this 
hair  rope  passes  twice  around  the  forehead  and  ends  in 
long  tassels  behind. 

As  I  was  much  sunburnt  and  had  a  black  stubby 
beard,  I  could  easily  pass  for  a  Bedouin  sheik,  so  far  as 
outward  appearance  was  concerned.  But  the  number  of 
Arab  words  that  I  gloried  in  was  closely  allied  to  the 
minus.  Ali  did  his  best  to  enrich  me.  "Three  words 
are  sufficient,"  he  said:  "Salaam,  aleikum,  mafish."  In 
other  words ;  if  I  met  any  of  the  marauding  nomads,  and 

47 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

felt  like  being  beforehand  in  civility,  I  might  say: 
"salaam";  or,  if  they  first  salaamed,  I  might  answer: 
"aleikum."  But  if  any  of  that  scum  of  the  desert 
should  seek  to  enter  into  conversation  with  such  a  high- 
born chief  as  myself,  they  should  be  told  to  go  about 
their  business  with  a  surly:  "mafish."  I  found  after- 
wards, that  this  three-cornered  vocabulary,  with  its  ex- 
pressive bluff  at  the  end,  went  far  toward  establishing 
tolerable  relations  between  Arabia  and  America. 

I  started  out  early  in  the  afternoon,  intending  to  reach 
Ramallah  about  twelve  miles  to  the  north  of  Jerusalem. 
My  traveling  companion  wanted  to  see  me  off  safely  for 
a  few  miles  at  least.  But  as  we  left  Jerusalem  from 
St.  Stephen's  gate,  which  is  on  the  east  side  of  the  city, 
we  at  first  pursued  the  wrong  direction.  It  entailed  an 
unnecessary  climb  of  Mt.  Scopus  on  the  northeast  of 
Jerusalem.  After  an  hour  and  a  half  of  climbing  we 
found  the  right  trail.  Near  a  ruined  village,  whence  the 
last  view  of  Jerusalem  could  be  had,  my  companion 
bade  me  God-speed,  and  I  was  launched  alone  on  my 
ten  day's  trip. 

Soon  the  difficulties  of  the  journey  became  evident. 
I  had  taken  along  light  shoes  with  thin  soles.  The 
northward  trail  was  in  some  places  a  remnant  of  a  road 
built  by  the  Romans,  which  probably  had  not  been  re- 
paired since  their  time.  The  large  and  small  boulders 
had  stood  the  wear  and  weather  of  two  thousand  years, 
and  are  now  but  loose  heaps  of  stone.  At  other  places 
the  road  was  a  mere  trail  full  of  holes  and  rugged  edges. 
My  shoes  gave  way  in  several  places  in  a  few  hours ;  the 
thin  soles  were  no  protection  against  the  rolling  rocks  and 
sharp  projections. 

I  had  left  my  partner  not  far  from  ancient  Gibeon,  the 
ruins  of  which  are  still  traceable  on  the  crest  of  a  hill. 
Josua,  when  he  came  to  exterminate  all  the  inhabitants 
of  Canaan,  was  neatly  circumvented  by  the  Gibeonites. 


GlBEON. 

They  sent  an  embassy,  decked  out  in  old  clothes,  on 
jaded  and  worn  beasts,  in  order  to  make  him  believe  they 
had  come  from  a  great  distance  outside  the  limits  of  the 
doomed  country.  Yet  they  were  only  twenty  miles 
from  Jericho,  where  Josua  was  encamped.  They  began 
to  flatter  him  with  the  great  things  they  had  heard  of  the 
Israelites,  thereby  securing  a  treaty,  which  Josua  con- 
firmed with  an  oath.  When  the  Israelites  a  short  time 
afterwards  found  that  these  people  were  living  right  in 
the  midst  of  the  promised  land,  they  did  not  dare  to 
destroy  them  on  account  of  the  oath.  So  the  race  of 
Gibeonites  was  allowed  to  live  as  slaves  ever  afterwards, 
to  be  employed  as  menials  at  the  temple. 

Past  Gibeon,  a  sloping  plain  stretched  away  to  some 
rugged  hills  in  the  distance.  The  lingering  sun's  rays 
still  rested  on  their  rocky  crests.  Behind  them  I  had  been 
told  to  look  for  Ramallah.  In  the  valley  I  met  a  few 
shepherds  and  wandering  Arabs,  who  surveyed  me  with 
inquisitive  looks.  The  shades  of  evening  were  lengthen- 
ing over  the  slopes.  On  the  hillsides  roughly-clad  shep- 
herds were  gently  urging  their  flocks  homeward,  and 
from  a  great  distance  the  cheery  voices  of  children 
resounded.  I  traversed  the  plain  and  climbed  around 
rocky  bluffs,  and  yet  no  Ramallah  hove  in  sight.  Dark- 
ness overtook  me  still  groping  over  the  loose  rocks  of  the 
indistinct  trail,  but  the  faint  barking  of  dogs  drew  me 
on  to  continue  my  search  in  the  nightly  gloom.  There 
are  no  habitations  of  any  kind  in  Palestine  outside  the 
villages.  A  farmhouse  is  altogether  unknown.  After 
wearily  stumbling  onward  for  a  half  an  hour  or  more, 
the  barking  sounded  fainter  than  before.  I  began  to 
familiarize  myself  with  the  prospect  of  sleeping  on  the 
rugged  hillside,  just  as  ages  ago  the  patriarch  Jacob  had 
done  not  far  from  this  very  neighborhood. 

The  trail  having  soon  become  undiscernible,  I  sought 
for  some  sheltering  hollow  in  rocks  for  protection  against 

49 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  chill  wind  that  blew  across  the  hilltops,  and,  wrapping 
myself  in  the  wide  haik,  laid  down  near  the  roadside  to 
sleep.  But  the  wind  became  still  more  chilly,  and  forced 
me  to  seek  the  lee  side  of  a  stony  ledge  on  the  other  side 
of  the  trail.  It  was  a  mighty  hard  bed,  but  I  was  tired 
and  I  sank  into  a  fitful  doze  as  the  moon  began  to  rise 
over  the  hills.  Not  a  soul  had  I  met  on  the  way  since 
sunset,  and  the  region  seemed  altogether  deserted.  The 
voices  of  the  night  in  other  countries,  such  as  the  chirping 
of  crickets,  the  tremulous  notes  of  the  frogs,  which  softly 
lull  to  sleep  on  the  prairies  or  in  the  woods  of  America, 
are  not  heard  in  these  hills  of  Judea.  The  soundless 
night  broods  as  if  in  speechless  sorrow  over  the  stony 
regions  that  repudiated  the  Savior. 

The  moon  had  climbed  high  up  the  starry  vault,  when 
suddenly  I  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  many  voices 
coming  over  the  hill  behind  me.  Peering  over  the  top  of 
the  stone  ledge,  I  saw  about  twenty  of  the  natives,  or 
Arabs,  rapidly  coming  down  the  stony  trail,  which 
gleamed  in  the  bright  moonlight,  within  a  few  paces  of 
where  I  lay.  Naturally  the  appearance  of  a  band  of 
Bedouins  so  late  at  night,  and  in  a  region  which  I 
thought  uninhabited,  gave  rise  to  some  uneasiness.  At 
any  rate  they  would  wonder  much  to  find  a  lonely 
wanderer  out  on  the  hills,  and  their  curiosity  would 
be  annoying.  I  therefore  crouched  in  the  shade  of  the 
rocks,  covering  myself  with  the  black  haik.  They 
would  probably  pass  by  without  seeing  me,  unless 
they  had  a  dog  with  them.  Laughing  and  chattering 
they  stumbled  past,  so  close  to  me  that  the  shadow  of 
some  of  them,  and  of  an  ass  which  they  were  driving,  fell 
upon  the  white  rocks  near  me.  None  of  them  noticed 
me,  and  they  disappeared  down  in  the  valley  around 
another  hill.  When  their  voices  had  become  inaudible 
I  arose  and  sought  for  a  more  quiet  resting-place  some 
rods  inward  from  the  road,  for  they  would  surely  see  me 


BIVOUACKING. 


in  my  old  place,  if  they  should  happen  to  come  back 
the  same  way.  I  was  not  wrong  in  my  conjecture  about 
their  return ;  in  half  an  hour  I  heard  their  voices  again 
approaching.  All  of  them,  however,  dragged  up  the 
rocky  trail,  unsuspicious  of  the  presence  of  their  white 
brother  bivouacking  on  the  hillside. 

I  was  not  further  disturbed  that  night,  though  I 
could  get  only  fitful  dozes  of  sleep,  while  the  half  disk  of 
the  moonlight  slowly  ran  its  course  across  the  heavens. 
The  edges  of  the  rocks  on  which  I  lay  would  not  accom- 
modate themselves  to  my  aching  limbs.  This  bivouck- 
ing  under  the  sky  was  very  pleasant  —  that  is,  to  read 
about,  or  to  muse  about  afterwards.  But  sometimes 
doubts  will  insinuate  themselves  while  one  revels  in  the 
reality.  However,  it  might  have  been  worse,  and  I  was 
somewhat  surprised  at  last  when  I  woke  up  and  saw 
that  dawn  had  encroached  upon  the  moonlight.  Na- 
tives were  now  coming  down  over  the  hill  in  groups, 
driving  some  asses.  After  they  had  passed  on  to  the 
valley  I  got  up  to  make  my  toilet.  It  consisted  merely 
in  leisurely  arranging  my  sash  and  my  haik,  and  read- 
justing the  tarbush.  While  I  was  thus  engaged  a  soji- 
tary  camel-driver  was  slowly  urging  his  beast  over  the 
hilltop ;  coming  nearer,  and  raising  his  eyes  toward  me, 
he  stood  like  one  petrified.  A  black  figure,  half  seen 
over  the  projecting  rocks,  and  so  deliberately  fumbling 
around  his  waist,  must  have  seemed  to  him  very  sus- 
picious. No  doubt  he  thought  I  was  but  a  leader  of  a  gang 
of  Bedouins,  concealed  behind  the  rocks,  ready  to  rob 
him  of  his  only  possession.  When  now  I  with  equal 
deliberation  moved  up  toward  the  road,  I  saw  him  ner- 
vously clutching  his  club  tighter  and  in  a  frightened  tone, 
asking  a  question.  Not  knowing  how  many  might  be 
in  his  wake,  I  passed  him  on  the  trail,  with  a  surly  "  ma- 
fish."  This  was  somewhat  of  a  superflous  admoni- 
tion, for  he  seemed  only  too  glad  to  "  go  about  his  busi- 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

ness."  Curious  to  find  out  whence  the  barking  of  the 
dogs  last  evening  had  proceeded,  I  pursued  the  trail  and 
found  a  ruinous  gathering  of  old  walls  on  the  top  of  a 
hill  only  one  and  a  half  mile  farther  on.  But  the  roads 
were  so  rugged  that  I  was  not  sorry  for  having  biv- 
ouacked under  the  sky.  Moreover,  I  found  that  it  was 
not  Ramallah,  but  the  remains  of  some  ancient  walls, 
inhabited  by  a  few  furtive  Arabs.  They  now  glared 
at  me  in  no  friendly  manner,  out  of  their  dark  holes. 

I  hastened  on  in  the  probable  direction  of  Beitin,  or 
ancient  Bethel.  Even  so  early  in  the  day  my  feet  began 
to  pain  and  swell  from  the  roughness  of  the  road,  and 
every  step  soon  became  a  torture.  I  began  to  realize 
what  fatigue  and  labor  Jesus  Christ  must  have  under- 
gone in  his  continual  wanderings,  very  often  barefooted, 
as  tradition  tells,  up  and  down  the  land  of  Israel.  I  do 
not  suppose  that  these  roads  were  any  better  in  his  time. 
No  wonder  he  sat  weary  at  Jacob's  Well.  The  trail  led 
gradually  down  into  a  valley,  where  there  seemed  to  be 
better  soil.  A  spring  irrigated  it,  and  two  or  three  plow- 
men were  scratching  the  ground,  urging  on  their  beasts 
of  draft  with  continual  calls.  Suddenly  I  heard  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  on  the  stony  trail  behind  me. 
A  European  came  down  the  hill,  preceded  by  a  soldier 
in  dirty  uniform  and  a  mule-driver;  the  three  of  them 
were  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  were  dragging  along  a  mule 
laden  with  goods.  Muffled  in  my  haik  I  stood  at  the 
roadside  to  watch  their  passing.  They  eyed  me  suspi- 
ciously from  afar,  prodded  their  beast  into  a  furious 
gallop  past  my  standpoint  into  the  rocky  ravine  ahead, 
and  disappeared  behind  the  cliffs  in  the  valley  below. 
Why  should  they  be  afraid  of  a  single  man  on  their  road, 
and  he  only  a  counterfeit  sheik? 

My  only  breakfast  was  a  not  very  cool  drink  from 
the  perturbed  water  of  a  spring  below.  By  this  time  I 
had  slowly  reached  the  rocky  wilderness  of  the  next  hill. 

52 


AT  THE  KHAN. 


I  looked  anxiously  for  Beitin.  In  vain,  however.  Only 
after  two  hours  more  of  weary  climbing  I  reached  the 
scanty  fig  orchards  on  its  outskirts. 

But  when  I  came  to  its  ruinous  walls,  scattered  with- 
out any  order  about  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  saw  the  dung 
piles  around  them,  the  garbage  and  offal  littering  the  pas- 
sages, my  hopes  of  refreshment  and  rest  began  to  wane. 
Nobody  was  to  be  seen,  no  sound  issued  from  the  crumb- 
ling holes  in  the  walls  that  served  as  doors,  only  a  pene- 
trating stench  of  burning  dung  filled  the  air.  In  vain  did 
I  look  for  a  bazaar,  or  for  a  likely  place  to  get  something 
to  eat.  At  length  I  met  an  old  man,  who  was  carrying 
a  child  on  his  arm.  After  repeating  to  him  the  word 
"khan,  khan,"  with  many  an  expressive  gesture  toward 
my  mouth,  he  pointed  to  a  ruin  near  by.  I  found  that 
it  was  a  cavernous  vault,  seemingly  the  foundations  of 
a  ruined  building.  The  whole  front  of  the  vault  was 
open,  and  the  inside  was  entirely  bare  except  a  few  stones 
in  the  dim  background  to  serve  as  a  fireplace.  Four  or 
five  dusky  Arabs  were  lying  or  sitting  on  the  bare  ground. 
One  of  them,  tall  and  gaunt,  more  bandit-like  than  the 
rest,  came  from  the  rear,  and  understanding  from  my 
signs  that  I  wanted  something  to  eat,  he,  in  equally  ex- 
pressive signs,  requested  "bakshish."  It  looked  highly 
problematical  whether  he  had  any  food  to  give.  There 
was  none  in  sight,  and  he  seemed  to  be  very  hungry  him- 
self. So  I  was  not  particularly  forward  in  obliging  him 
with  any  of  my  loose  change.  The  other  inmates  jumped 
up  from  their  mats  and  surrounded  me.  My  haik  was 
a  new  one  with  thin  red  stripes  along  the  seams ;  it  took 
their  fancy  by  storm.  All  seized  hold  of  it,  and  began 
to  examine  it  with  greedy  eyes.  With  the  air  of  a  sheik 
of  thousand  lances,  I  wrenched  it  from  their  grasp, 
almost  tearing  it,  and  turned  away  with  an  angry  "  ma- 
fish."  That  word  seemed  to  have  the  same  effect  with 
those  people  as  the  sight  of  an  American  man  of  war 

53 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

in  the  harbor  of  some  Turkish  port.  Ali  had  given  me 
the  most  useful  and  the  most  necessary  word  in  the  whole 
Arabic  language.  They  did  not  follow  me  as  I  turned 
another  passage  between  the  ruins. 

There  I  met  the  old  man  with  the  child  again,  and 
made  more  signs  for  something  to  eat.  This  time  I  en- 
forced them  by  showing  a  ruba-medjid,  or  a  quarter  of  a 
medjid.  It  is  a  silver  piece  of  the  size  of  our  quarter. 
He  led  me  to  a  hole  in  the  wall.  It  was  the  entrance  to 
a  small  courtyard,  surrounded  on  the  other  three  sides 
by  the  ruinous  walls  of  low  huts.  These  had  no  windows, 
only  three  or  four  dark  apertures.  The  yard  was  strewn 
with  big  boulders,  which  could  be  used  as  stepping-stones 
over  the  reeking  dung  and  mud.  Some  pigs  and  goats 
groped  around,  three  or  four  women  and  some  children, 
only  half  dressed,  stared  at  me  in  the  hot  sunshine.  One 
of  them  was  seated  on  one  of  the  stones  kneading  a  mass 
of  dough  on  a  flat  piece  of  board  on  the  ground.  The 
dough  looked  almost  as  black  as  herself,  for  every  now 
and  then  as  she  turned  it,  an  end  of  it  flopped  into  the 
dirt  of  the  yard. 

Another  woman  sat  swinging  a  goatskin  full  of  milk, 
suspended  from  a  peg  in  the  wall.  As  she  pushed  it 
from  her,  a  drop  or  two  of  the  milk  would  gurgle  out  of 
legs  of  the  goatskin.  In  a  corner  a  mother  sat,  nursing 
an  infant  at  her  bare  breast.  The  fourth  one  came 
close  up  to  me  to  satisfy  her  curiosity  about  my  new  haik 
and  striped  undergarment.  All  the  while  the  old  man 
stood  by  scowling  at  the  women,  who  probably  were  his 
daughters-in-law.  How  could  they  thus  allow  a  stranger 
to  look  on  their  unprotected  faces?  These  were  prob- 
ably his  thoughts.  But  he  need  not  have  worried.  Their 
beauty  was  more  witch-like  than  bewitching.  Desper- 
ately I  held  out  the  silver  coin  and  pointed  to  my  open 
mouth. 

But  to  my  signs  and  motions  they  answered  only  by 
54 


PANIC  IN  A  HAREM. 


loud  laughter  and  chatter  among  themselves.  A  boy 
of  fourteen,  dressed  only  in  a  dirty  shirt,  entered  fully 
into  the  fun  of  the  situation,  laughing  and  talking  with 
them  and  stretching  out  his  hands  for  my  ruba.  When 
I  thought  they  had  comprehended  my  meaning,  I  gave 
him  the  quarter.  He  and  one  of  the  women  rushed  with 
it  into  one  of  the  holes,  and  I  thought  the  problem  of 
providing  for  an  empty  stomach  was  to  be  speedily 
solved.  But  they  soon  returned  empty-handed,  and,  it 
seemed,  for  new  frolic.  I  grabbed  the  youngster  by  the 
neck  and  threateningly  raised  my  cane.  Tableau: 
Shrieks  from  the  whole  chorus,  the  boy  tearing  away, 
running  into  the  hut,  and  bringing  back  the  coin.  I 
had  accidentally  heard  the  word  fig  in  Arabic  and  kept 
repeating  it,  while  again  offering  the  coin.  Finally  one 
of  the  women  climbed  over  the  top  of  a  wall  and  brought  a 
wooden  dish  full  of  figs,  while  the  boy  had  fetched  some- 
thing like  pancakes.  The  dirt  on  the  figs  immediately 
suggested  the  handling  they  had  undergone  in  the  un- 
washed fingers  of  these  women,  while  the  pancakes  were 
undoubtedly  baked  from  the  same  kind  of  dough  that 
one  of  these  women  had  kneaded  on  the  filthy  courtyard 
ground. 

As  he  saw  me  hesitate,  the  boy  eagerly  tried  to  con- 
vince me  of  its  being  eatable,  and  began  to  tug  at  the 
rubber-like  black  mass,  gulping  it  down  in  great  chunks. 
I  left  him  to  enjoy  his  banquet  and  began  to  fill  my  sash 
with  handfuls  of  the  figs.  But  though  they  would 
probably  have  gladly  sold  the  whole  outfit  for  a  few 
paras,  the  boy  tried  to  stop  me  from  taking  more  than 
two  handfuls  for  the  ruba-medjid.  Several  times  during 
these  transactions  the  old  man  had  already  interfered  and 
waved  back  the  old  hags;  but  now,  since  the  coin  was 
secured,  he  gave  me  to  understand  that  I  must  depart 
immediately.  He  probably  thought  that  the  harem  of 
his  absent  son  or  son-in-law  was  sufficiently  demoralized, 

55 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  that  the  line  must  be  drawn  somewhere.  That  old 
Moslem  probably  will  never  know  with  what  a  relieved 
and  lightened  heart  the  counterfeit  sheik  issued  from  the 
stench  and  filth  of  his  son's  harem.  As  I  pursued  my 
way  through  the  reeking  and  filthy  ruins  of  Beitin,  it  was 
hard  to  realize  that  this  was  ancient  Bethel,  the  place 
where  the  angel  had  descended  on  a  ladder  from  heaven 
to  our  sleeping  forefather  Jacob,  and  where  he  had  set 
up  the  anointed  stone  to  commemorate  the  great  prom- 
ises he  there  had  received  from  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  THE  "VALLEY  OF  THE  ROBBERS"  —  SHADOWED  — 
SUSPICIOUS  COMPANY  —  MY  OWN  JAILER  —  A  SLEEP- 
LESS NIGHT. 

I  slowly  pursued  my  way  down  the  hill,  eating  of  the 
dried  figs.  The  road  did  not  improve  but  rather  got 
worse,  and  the  hill  was  very  steep.  About  a  mile  down 
the  valley  I  came  to  a  cistern.  While  sitting  there  a 
group  of  Arabs  gathered  around  it,  eyeing  me  curiously 
and  seeking  to  enter  into  a  conversation.  Two  or  three 
of  them  were  armed  with  long  brass-bound  carbines. 
A  few  girls  also  came  to  draw  water  in  their  earthen  jugs, 
which  they  placed  on  their  heads  and  carried  all  the  way 
up  the  rugged  path  to  Beitin.  Two  of  the  men  were 
mule-drivers,  and  one  of  them  was  armed  with  a  gun. 
As  I  wanted  to  drink,  I  had  to  ask  for  their  jug,  and  so 
revealed  my  inability  to  speak  Arabic.  This  seemed  to 
make  them  more  bold,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  move  on 
after  I  had  satisfied  my  thirst  at  the  brackish  cistern. 
But  I  soon  noticed  that  they  were  following  at  a  distance, 
dodging  my  footsteps  up  and  down  the  rugged  hills, 
past  olive  patches  on  the  hillsides  and  the  ruins  of  a 
village  farther  on.  There  they  apparently  joined  a  long 
pack-train  of  mules  which  was  wending  its  crooked  way 
through  the  ravine. 

The  valley  does  justice  to  its  name,  at  least  in  outward 
appearance,  for  it  is  a  long  defile  between  two  rocky 
declivities.  By  this  time  the  soles  of  my  shoes  had  be- 
come completely  worn  through  by  the  rocks,  and  I  could 
not  move  a  step  without  the  greatest  pain.  My  feet  were 
painfully  swollen.  Nevertheless  I  pushed  forward,  down 

57 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  valley  to  a  place  where  I  found  water  trickling  from 
the  rocks.  It  goes  by  the  name  of  Robbers'  Fountain. 
Glad  to  be  free  from  the  suspicious  company,  I  slaked 
my  thirst  and  stretched  out  on  the  soft  grass  for  a  rest. 
But  I  was  soon  disturbed.  At  some  distance  in  the  rear 
I  again  saw  the  armed  muleteer  slowly  jogging  along 
the  trail,  and  not  far  behind  him  his  partner  with  two 
jackasses.  In  the  dried-out  bed  of  a  torrent  below 
now  and  then  bobbed  up  the  head  of  another  man  whom 
I  had  not  seen  before.  Any  sign  of  suspicion  at  such 
extraordinary  movements  would  have  been  a  great  en- 
couragement to  any  evil  designs  they  might  have.  There- 
fore I  pretended  to  take  the  utmost  ease,  and  simply 
watched  the  man  with  the  gun  as  he  passed  reluctantly 
by.  He  probably  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  the 
unperturbed  gaze  with  which  I  eyed  him  as  he  passed, 
and  if  the  trio  had  any  plans  they  must  have  been  discon- 
certed. A  few  rods  onward  he  threw  himself  under  a 
tree,  allowing  the  driver  and  his  ragged  partner  in  the 
ravine  to  come  up  with  him.  There  they  lay,  seemingly 
resting  by  the  roadside.  I  rose  after  a  little  while  and 
slowly  proceeded  on  my  way,  too  footsore  to  go  even  at 
an  ordinary  pace.  They  allowed  me  to  pass,  but  soon 
afterwards  came  up. 

I  saw  that  I  could  not  avoid  some  kind  of  intercourse, 
and  therefore  determined  to  be  beforehand.  I  wanted 
to  reach  Naplouse,  or  Sichem,  but  had  no  knowledge  of 
its  whereabouts  or  its  distance.  My  feet  would  hardly 
carry  me  a  mile  farther  What  if  I  could  get  the  use  of 
one  of  their  beasts?  Even  if  their  intentions  were  evil, 
I  would  be  better  off  with  one  of  their  asses  in  my  posses- 
sion. I  resolved  to  get  possession  of  a  mule  and  ward 
off  treachery  later.  I  gave  them  to  understand  that  I 
would  pay  a  ruba-medjid,  not  wishing  to  let  them  per- 
ceive how  anxious  I  was  to  procure  a  beast  at  any  price. 
The  shining  quarter  immediately  took  their  eye;  a 

58 


SHADOWED. 

second  one,  drawn  from  my  haik,  secured  the  larger  of 
the  two  asses.  What  a  luxury!  To  be  carried  along  on 
the  back  of  that  beast,  while  my  aching  feet  dangled 
down  at  leisure,  untouched  by  the  rough  ground.  I  re- 
solved to  make  use  of  that  animal  and  its  drivers  as  long 
as  possible,  whether  they  were  bandits  or  not.  Soon 
the  trio  held  a  conference,  whereupon  one  of  them  began 
to  urge  my  mule  briskly  forward,  slashing  it  across  the 
ears,  poking  it  from  behind,  and  accompanying  his  cuff 
with  such  unceasing  sounds  as  hm,  brr,  rr,  ghee,  ss. 
The  man  with  the  gun  and  his  ragged  partner  with  the 
other  mule  were  soon  left  behind.  At  frequent  intervals 
my  driver  made  signs  and  motions  for  additional  bak- 
shish. This  happened  especially  when  we  had  to  over- 
come bad  stretches  of  the  road,  so  that  in  the  course  of 
an  hour  I  had  already  raised  the  quarter  medjid  to  a 
whole  one.  I  insisted,  however,  on  not  paying  him  until 
the  end  of  the  journey. 

After  leaving  the  Valley  of  the  Robbers,  we  passed 
the  trail  leading  to  Siloe,  where  Heli  and  Samuel  guarded 
the  Sanctuary  of  Israel  before  the  temple  was  built  in 
Jerusalem.  Soon  we  came  to  a  rugged  hill  over  which 
the  ass  could  not  carry  me.  To  walk  even  these  short 
distances  was  a  torture,  and  I  realized  that  these  Arabs, 
whatever  was  their  ultimate  intention,  were  a  godsend  to 
me  at  present.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  I  surveyed  a 
wide  valley,  bounded  by  the  mountain  of  Gilboa.  Long 
before  I  could  drag  myself  across  the  declivity  my  driver 
had  arrived  on  the  other  side  with  the  beast,  and  stood 
talking  to  the  keeper  of  Louban  khan.  The  khan  was 
but  a  thatched  roof,  resting  on  two  ruined  walls.  The 
sinister  keeper  invited  me  to  stay,  but  the  bare  ground 
and  few  straw  mats  were  no  temptation,  and  I  preferred 
the  ass's  back  to  the  suspicious  hospitality  of  the  swarthy 
host.  So  we  pushed  on  across  the  plain,  seemingly  to 
a  large  town  at  the  foot  of  the  Gilboa  Mountains  in  the 

59 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

distance.  The  evening  sun  lay  spread  over  the  land- 
scape, and  intervening  clouds  now  and  then  sent  vast 
shadow-patches  over  the  green  valley  and  distant  moun- 
tain slopes. 

Not  far  away  in  the  valley  our  trail  divided  into  two 
branches ;  one  to  the  left  to  a  large  town  at  the  foot  of  a 
mountain,  the  other  to  the  right  toward  rugged  hill  coun- 
try. My  driver  suddenly  stopped  and  peremptorily  de- 
manded a  medjid.  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  he 
would  get  it  as  soon  as  we  would  come  to  Naplouse.  As 
he  would  not  acquiesce,  and  as  I  would  not  willingly  have 
relinquished  my  seat  for  ten  medjid,  I  gave  him  a  half 
medjid.  Even  this  was  a  mistake,  for  now  he  began  to 
protest,  as  I  thought,  that  Naplouse  was  too  far  away  and 
he  would  bring  me  to  a  better  lodging  for  the  night.  I 
was  half  amused  at  his  protests ;  he  was  certainly  unwill- 
ing to  go  as  far  as  Naplouse,  therefore  he  drove  the  ass 
into  the  side  trail  to  the  right.  It  led  to  the  foot  of  a  con- 
siderable hill,  to  the  top  of  which  he  kept  pointing.  As 
we  reached  its  base  we  met  several  Bedouins  with  their 
long  shafted  and  brass-bound  carbines  sitting  or  standing 
in  the  ravines  on  both  sides  of  the  path.  My  driver  ex- 
changed a  few  words  with  them,  but  my  desire  for  rest 
and  refreshment  now  was  stronger  than  all  suspicions. 
Besides  it  was  time  enough  to  look  for  the  defense  when 
there  was  any  sign  of  attack. 

The  sun  was  sinking,  and  its  last  rays  were  falling  on 
a  cluster  of  ruinous  walls  crowning  the  heights  before 
us.  To  ride  up  the  rugged  trail  was  out  of  question,  and 
this  last  half  hour  of  climbing  was  probably  the  most 
painful  half  mile  I  ever  traveled.  My  feet  were  fearfully 
swollen  and  bruised  by  two  days'  travel  on  the  rugged 
trails.  Up  the  hills  and  through  the  stench  of  burning 
excrements,  which  are  used  for  precarious  fuel  in  these 
countries,  he  led  me  to  an  enclosure  surrounded  by  ruined 
walls.  A  few  ugly  old  women,  some  dirty  children,  a 

60 


MY  OWN  JAILER. 


starving  dog,  several  goats  and  sheep,  and  even  a  cow 
were  stumbling  over  the  boulders  that  projected  like 
islands  out  of  the  mud  and  manure  of  the  small  yard. 

But  I  cared  not  for  all  that.  I  sat  down  on  one  of  the 
stones  near  the  entrance  and  began  to  take  off  what  was 
left  of  my  footwear,  demanding  fresh  water  with  the  air 
of  a  pasha.  I  suspected  that  pouring  water  over  my 
burning  feet  was  probably  the  greatest  luxury  I  would 
ever  obtain  in  such  a  place  as  this.  I  was  not  mistaken. 
While  I  sat  cooling  my  feet  with  the  water  which  the 
women  brought  to  me  in  a  tin  can,  my  mule-driver  stood 
conferring  with  one  of  the  old  women.  My  pantomimes 
to  procure  something  to  eat  seemed  to  make  no  impres- 
sion. But  he  beckoned  me  to  a  low  door  in  the  old  wall, 
leading  into  what  appeared  to  be  the  vault  of  an  old  ruin 
with  an  arched  roof.  A  round  hole  in  the  rear  wall  was 
the  only  window.  On  the  bare  ground  in  the  middle  was 
spread  a  mat,  around  it  I  saw  all  kinds  of  rubbish  and 
implements  littering  the  corners.  My  host  pointed  to 
the  mat,  and  I  understood  that  it  would  be  my  couch  for 
the  night. 

I  began  to  long  for  the  stony  resting-place  of  last  night, 
but  I  was  too  tired  to  think  much  of  looking  for  one  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  mountain  just  now;  besides  I  was 
still  in  a  faint  hope  of  getting  something  to  eat.  So  I  at 
once  lay  down  on  the  mat  with  a  bag  of  some  kind  of 
grain  for  a  pillow.  After  a  while  in  came  the  Arab  with 
a  roll  of  the  pancake,  such  as  I  had  seen  at  noontime  in 
Beitin,  a  can  of  water,  a  small  tin  cup  with  ill-smelling 
salve,  and  a  hard-boiled  egg.  Stretching  himself  out  at 
my  side  in  full  length,  he  gave  me  the  egg  and  offered 
me  some  of  the  black  tough  pancake.  Seeing  that  I  hesi- 
tated to  eat,  he  wrenched  off  big  pieces  from  the  rubbery 
substance,  and  dipping  it  into  the  dirty  salve  began  to 
chew  away  at  it  with  immense  gusto.  In  order  not  to 
despise  his  hospitality  altogether,  I  yielded  to  his  urgent 

61 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

invitations.  But  the  dirt  and  the  toughness  of  the  bread, 
and  the  smell  of  the  grease  prevented  me  from  swallow- 
ing any  of  it.  I  contented  myself  with  the  single  egg 
and  the  stale  water.  Having  finished  this  repulsive 
meal,  I  tried  to  make  my  swarthy  host  understand  that  I 
must  have  a  light  of  some  kind.  Whereupon  he  returned 
with  a  tiny  kerosene  torch  lamp,  which  could  contain  only 
two  or  three  thimblefuls  of  oil.  My  suspicions  were 
aroused  again  when  I  saw  standing  in  the  doorway  be 
hind  him  his  afternoon  companion,  fumbling  with  his 
brass-bound  carbine,  and  grinning  over  the  shoulders  of 
the  ass-driver.  When  they  were  about  to  leave  I  saw 
them  produce  a  ponderous  key  and  insert  it  into  the  plank 
door  on  its  outside.  Did  they  intend  to  lock  me  in  this 
hole  over  night  ?  In  spite  of  my  weariness  I  jumped  up 
before  they  could  draw  the  rickety  door  toward  them 
and  turn  the  rusty  bolts.  With  an  angry  "mafish"  I 
hurled  the  ass-driver  out  of  the  doorway  against  his  mate, 
and  wrenched  the  key  from  the  lock.  In  strong  English 
I  told  them  that  "  if  there  was  any  locking  to  be  done, 
I  was  the  one  to  do  it,  and  from  the  inside."  They 
seemed  to  be  paralyzed  by  the  proceeding.  But  that 
made  no  difference  to  me,  angry  as  I  was.  I  slammed 
the  door  before  their  faces  and  locked  it  from  the  inside, 
storing  away  the  ponderous  key  under  my  pillow.  I 
could  at  least  keep  undesirable  company  out,  even  if 
their  intention  was  to  detain  me  as  desirable  company 
within.  I  heard  them  rummaging  around  and  talking  in 
a  low  voice  for  a  while  on  the  outside,  while  I  made  pre- 
paration to  sleep  and  leave  the  rest  to  Providence.  En- 
trapped or  not,  I  was  too  tired  to  think  of  much  more 
than  rest  and  sleep. 

But  in  spite  of  my  fatigue  I  scarcely  obtained  a  half 
hour  of  sleep  during  the  night.  Outside  was  the  bustle 
of  men  and  beasts  retiring  to  rest.  Inside  was  the  stuffy 
air,  the  hard  couch,  and  a  bloodthirsty  host  of  mosqui- 

62 


A  NIGHT  OF  HORROR. 


toes  beginning  their  wrathful  music  around  my  ears. 
The  haik,  thrown  over  my  head,  was  no  protection 
against  them-,  for  they  managed  to  find  an  opening  no 
matter  how  I  adjusted  it.  As  the  noise  on  the  outside 
gradually  subsided,  the  music  of  the  ravenous  insects 
became  so  much  the  louder,  and,  in  unison  with  it,  a  mys- 
terious crackling  noise  sounded  from  some  dark  corner 
behind  me,  as  if  someone  were  slowly  breaking  through 
the  walls.  From  another  quarter  a  stealthy  cackling,  as 
if  from  a  disturbed  chicken-roost,  joined  in  the  hideous 
concert. 

It  had  been  too  dark  when  I  entered  this  chamber  of 
horrors  to  see  anything  except  the  mat  and  the  imme- 
diate surroundings.  I  lighted  the  small  torch  and  groped 
around  to  examine  the  lair.  It  was  a  cavern  about  nine 
feet  square  vaulted  over  by  solid  masonry.  Brushwood 
lay  heaped  up  in  one  corner,  an  old  plow  in  another,  bags 
filled  with  grain  of  some  kind  stood  at  the  head  of  my 
resting-place,  broken  implements  near  the  door.  From 
the  rough  vault  hung  down  long  strings  of  dusty  cobwebs, 
and  the  moonlight  gleamed  through  the  chinks  of  the 
plank  door.  I  could  find  nothing  to  explain  the  noises, 
for  they  had  ceased  as  soon  as  I  lighted  the  lamp.  One 
of  them  was  satisfactorily  explained  soon  after  I  extin- 
guished the  light;  a  rat  ran  over  my  legs,  and  being 
satisfied  of  that  at  least,  I  began  grimly  to  enjoy  fitful 
dozes  of  sleep.  The  mosquitoes  had  a  high  time  of  it 
that  night,  as  far  as  I  could  judge  from  their  satanic 
music.  On  account  of  the  unbearable  closeness  and 
stench  of  the  air  I  could  not  keep  the  haik  over  my  face 
for  more  than  a  few  minutes.  I  wondered  afterwards 
why  the  thought  of  leaving  the  cavernous  quarters  never 
came  to  me.  It  must  have  been  on  account  of  the  ex- 
treme fatigue. 

The  dawn  at  length  began  to  glimmer  through  the 
joints  of  the  door,  and  I  heard  the  noise  of  awakening  men 

63 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  animals.  The  suspicious  behavior  of  my  hosts  yes- 
terday was  still  fresh  in  my  mind,  and  I  somewhat  appre- 
hended trouble  at  my  departure.  However  I  soon  found 
that  if  they  had  meditated  any  treachery,  they  must  have 
changed  their  minds,  for  when  I  unbolted  the  door  I 
found  no  obstacle,  and  an  old  woman  standing  in  the 
yard  readily  showed  me  the  way  out  to  the  hillside,  where 
my  ass-driver  and  a  dozen  of  other  Arabs  were  sitting 
on  the  detached  rocks,  or  standing  on  the  scanty  grass. 
I  bargained  for  an  ass  to  ride  to  Naplouse  and  for  a  pair 
of  their  shoes.  As  for  breakfast,  they  looked  hungry 
enough  themselves  to  cause  doubt  whether  "they  had  any 
to  spare.  My  ass-driver  of  yesterday  grinningly  sold  me 
his  shoes.  They  were  merely  thick  soles  of  raw  cowhide, 
ending  in  a  peak  over  the  toes.  The  top  was  thin  red 
leather  latched  with  heavy  leather  strips.  He  took  what 
was  left  of  my  old  shoes  away  with  him,  and  came  back 
leading  the  mule  I  had  bargained  for.  We  were  soon  on 
the  way,  and  out  of  sheer  hunger  I  found  myself  munch- 
ing some  of  the  dirty  pancake  of  which  he  was  making 
his  breakfast.  No  wonder :  I  had  not  had  anything  to 
eat  for  almost  two  days,  except  a  few  figs  and  the  hard- 
boiled  egg  last  night. 


•V 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Ax  JACOB'S  WELL  —  FANATICAL  NAPLOUSE  —  GAL- 
LOPING OVER  MORASSES  —  DAOUD'S  ANXIETY  — 
WELCOME  HOSPITALITY  —  ON  THE  PLAINS  OF 
ESDRELON. 

The  sun  was  just  rising  over  the  eastern  hills,  casting 
long  shadows  into  the  wide  valley  of  Sichem,  to  which  we 
were  now  descending.  We  traversed  it  in  about  two 
hours,  and  came  to  the  foot  of  Mount  Garizim,  where  the 
ruins  of  Jacob's  Well  still  stand  within  an  enclosure.  My 
driver  had  continually  asked  for  increased  and  immediate 
pay  during  the  whole  time,  but  I  was  firm  and  told  him 
he  would  get  it  in  Naplouse.  Sulkily  he  waited  on  the 
road  while  I  went  to  see  the  old  well  of  Jacob.  An  old 
man  unlocked  the  gate  of  the  enclosure,  and  conducted 
me  to  the  ruins  of  a  church  built  over  the  well  by  the  cru- 
saders. Under  a  vault  of  these  ruins  is  the  opening  of 
the  well.  Its  top  is  lined  with  stones  that  looked  old  and 
worn  enough  to  have  been  in  use  at  the  time  of  Jacob. 
Grooves  several  inches  deep  were  worn  into  them  by  the 
ropes  with  which  the  water  was  drawn.  The  old  man  let 
down  a  triple  candle  light  into  the  circular  shaft,  which 
illumined  the  sides  and  the  bottom  of  the  well  a  hundred 
feet  below.  Its  springs  were  now  dried  up.  Here  Jesus 
sat,  tired  and  hungry,  burning  with  the  desire  of  bringing 
erring  men  back  to  his  truth.  Here  his  divine  affability 
converted  the  Samaritan  woman  and  the  inhabitants  of 
the  neighboring  city. 

We  resumed  our  way  along  the  foot  of  Mount  Garizim 
and  soon  entered  the  narrow  valley  between  it  and  Mount 
Hebal  to  the  left.  Naplouse,  the  ancient  Sichem,  lies 

65 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

crouched  between  these  two  mountains.  On  Garizim 
the  Samaritans  had  their  temple,  and  the  inhabitants  of 
Naplouse  still  resort  to  its  summit  as  a  holy  place.  To 
the  right,  at  the  foot  of  Hebal,  is  the  tomb  of  Joseph. 
Both  it  and  the  well  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Greeks  or 
Russians.  We  passed  many  barracks  and  many  Turk- 
ish soldiers,  for  Naplouse  is  quite  a  town.  The  Moslems 
here  are  very  fanatical,  and  often  molest  Christians 
passing  through.  None  of  the  guards  however  troubled 
me,  for  I  was  for  the  time  a  free  and  roving  Bedouin. 
Nor  was  I  molested  in  any  way  in  the  streets  of  Naplouse. 
My  ass-driver  got  several  additions  to  his  pay  by  dint  of 
continual  demands.  After  some  fruitless  inquiry  about 
the  Latin  church  I  found  a  shop-keeper  who  spoke 
Italian,  and  sent  a  boy  to  show  us  the  way.  There  the 
ass-driver  left  me  to  my  fate.  He  probably  had  more 
ready  cash  in  his  hands  than  he  ever  expected  to  get, 
and  no  doubt  had  a  good  time  on  that  day.  There  are 
only  a  few  Latin  Christians  in  Naplouse.  They  have  a 
chapel  attended  by  an  Italian  priest.  The  servant 
received  me  at  once  without  distrust  into  the  house,  but 
I  had  some  difficulties  in  making  the  padre  believe  that  I 
was  a  Catholic  priest.  I  always  found  Italians  some- 
what suspicious  in  that  regard.  They  often  asked  me 
why  I  did  not  wear  a  cassock  while  traveling.  A  very 
practical  idea,  I  must  say,  to  go  around  the  world  in  a 
cassock!  But  they  stick  to  forms.  Of  course  we  must 
excuse  the  good  Father  in  Naplouse ;  others  besides  he 
would  have  hesitated  to  believe  that  a  priest  was  hidden 
under  my  Bedouin  outfit.  But  I  soon  managed  to  over- 
come his  distrust,  and  then  he  treated  me  quite 
hospitably. 

I  was  completely  worn  out.  Somewhat  fearing  an 
attack  of  fever,  I  took  a  dose  of  quinine  and  went  to  bed. 
In  the  meanwhile  my  host  promised  to  procure  a  horse 
and  a  moukar  for  my  journey  to  Nazareth.  When  he 

66 


WITH  DAOUD. 


called  me  to  partake  of  some  dinner  there  was  a  country- 
man of  his  at  the  table  with  him,  and  we  managed  with 
some  difficulty  to  make  ourselves  understood.  Gladly 
paying  for  his  services,  I  bade  good-by  to  the  Father  and 
mounted  the  horse  which  had  been  brought  by  Daoud, 
a  Christian  moukar.  He  was  a  short  chunky  Arab,  and 
rode  a  small  mule.  What  a  difference  there  was  between 
the  Moslem  Arabs  of  yesterday,  and  this  Christian 
moukar  of  to-day !  Though  of  the  same  station  and  con- 
dition of  life,  he  was  a  civilized  man,  had  good  manners, 
whereas  the  former  were  little  less  than  savages.  Not 
once  on  the  road  did  he  refer  to  the  wages  I  had  promised 
him,  nor  to  any  extra. bakshish. 

The  valley  between  Mount  Garizim  and  Mount  Hebal 
is  narrow.  Naplouse,  being  a  large  town,  extends 
through  this  valley  for  about  a  mile.  There  are  still  some 
descendants  of  the  ancient  Sichemites,  and  in  their  house 
of  worship  they  show  the  most  ancient  manuscript  of 
the  five  books  of  Moses  extant.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a 
scroll,  which  runs  on  two  rollers,  like  the  liturgical  books 
of  the  Jews  in  their  synagogues  of  our  day.  The  five 
books  of  Moses  are  the  only  scriptures  these  Sichemites 
recognize  as  inspired.  The  name  Naplouse  stands  for 
Neapolis,  the  name  given  to  Sichem  by  the  Romans 
after  the  time  of  our  Savior.  The  main  street  of  Na- 
plouse, following  the  course  of  the  valley  and  intersecting 
the  town  through  its  whole  length,  is  one  continued 
bazaar  where  much  native  business  is  transacted.  The 
rest  of  the  town  has  the  usual  ruinous  and  neglected 
appearance  common  to  all  Palestine.  To  look  for  grand 
buildings  or  decent  dwellings  would  be  useless.  The 
crumbling  walls  of  ruins,  covered  with  thatched  roofs, 
furnish  habitation  to  the  majority  of  the  population. 
The  filth  in  the  streets  is,  it  seems,  more  abundant 
than  in  Jerusalem. 

After  traversing  the  valley  of  Sichem,  Daoud  took 
67 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

a  trail  to  the  right  up  the  mountainside.  He  was  no 
laggard,  and  continually  prodded  his  mule  onward, 
urging  me  to  make  haste.  The  sun  shone  warm  on 
the  mountains,  several  of  which  we  had  left  behind, 
when  Sebastieh,  the  ancient  capital  of  Samaria,  on  the 
top  of  a  high  hill,  came  to  view.  There  are  many  ruins 
on  its  outskirts.  The  trail  had  become  more  passable 
after  we  left  Naplouse,  and  the  country  showed  more 
signs  of  vegetation.  We  passed  several  fine  springs, 
and  much  of  the  land  was  under  cultivation,  or  covered 
with  olive  and  fruit  trees.  Proceeding  some  seven  or 
eight  miles  of  hilly  country  beyond  Sebastieh,  we  entered 
a  wide  plain,  across  which  we  saw  Bethulia  perched  on 
a  conical  shaped  hill  to  our  left.  This  hill  rose  from 
the  plain,  and  was  somewhat  detached  from  the  other 
mountains  that  encircled  the  plain  of  Bethulia.  Holo- 
fernes  had  a  fine  camping-ground  for  his  army  on  the 
grassy  plain,  until  Judith  chopped  off  his  head. 

Daoud  followed  an  indistinct  trail  directly  across  the 
plain.  But  it  must  have  been  the  wrong  one,  for  we 
were  soon  in  the  midst  of  a  swamp.  Daoud  got  very 
much  excited  when  his  ass  struck  a  soft  place  and  sank 
deep  into  the  ooze.  I  somewhat  enjoyed  his  excitement, 
for  which  there  was  no  great  cause.  There  were  sev- 
eral hoof-marks  of  cattle  leading  through  the  soft  places 
in  different  directions.  Besides  he  allowed  his  ass  to  go 
so  slowly  that  it  could  not  but  sink  into  the  ooze.  On 
no  account  would  he  allow  me  to  proceed  until  he 
should  have  crossed.  He  called  a  boy,  who  was  at 
some  distance  herding  cattle,  to  show  him  the  way. 
But  he  was  afraid  to  follow  the  direction  the  boy  gave. 
Seeing  that  he  made  no  headway,  I  spurred  my  horse 
into  a  run,  and  followed  the  old  tracks  I  had  seen  leading 
into  the  morass.  My  horse  floundered  through  the 
insidious  ooze,  sinking  deeper  and  deeper,  while  Daoud 
still  stood  at  the  edge  shouting  his  lamentations  and 

68 


ARAB  HOSPITALITY. 


warnings  after  me.  With  a  little  scare  I  got  safely  to 
the  other  side.  Daoud  would  not  follow,  and  made  a 
wide  detour,  where  he  at  last  scrambled  through  with 
his  mule. 

We  again  briskly  pursued  our  way  across  the  plain. 
Several  large,  beautiful  black  and  white  birds  permitted 
us  to  approach  within  a  few  yards  before  they  took 
flight.  A  flock  of  ducks  also  flew  across  the  plain. 

It  seems  poor  Daoud's  nerves  were  altogether  un- 
strung by  his  adventure  in  the  swamp,  for  he  was  now 
continually  grumbling  and  prodding  his  ass.  He 
turned  around  very  often,  making  impatient  signs  for 
me  to  hasten,  though  I  did  not  lag  behind.  The  foot- 
hills were  soon  reached  and  we  entered  through  wheat 
patches  into  an  ascending  ravine.  The  sun  had  dis- 
appeared, and  the  anxiety  of  Daoud  probably  arose 
from  the  fear  of  not  being  able  to  reach  Sedabdieh, 
whither  the  priest  in  Naplouse  had  directed  him  for  the 
night.  The  road  was  again  exceedingly  rugged,  and 
dusk  had  begun  to  settle  before  we  reached  the  top  of 
the  ravine.  Daoud  pushed  aside  some  of  the  shrubbery, 
and  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction  when  he  saw  the  village 
lying  in  the  valley  below.  He  hastened  down  into  the 
valley  with  his  ass,  and  led  the  way  between  some  ruined 
passages  to  a  church  on  one  side  of  the  village.  The 
penetrating  smell  of  burning  dung  filled  the  air.  The 
priest  was  not  at  home,  but  he  arrived  shortly  after  in 
company  with  an  Arab  priest,  who  had  come  on  a  visit. 
When  Daoud  told  him  that  he  had  brought  another 
priest  as  a  guest  for  the  night,  he  turned  to  me  and 
asked  me  in  Arabic,  where  the  visitor  was.  I  answered 
in  French,  that  I  was  fearfully  tired  and  hungry,  and 
longed  for  some  rest.  Still  more  puzzled,  he  repeated 
his  question,  for  he  took  me  for  an  Arabian  dragoman. 
It  was  only  after  a  good  deal  of  explanation,  that  he 
became  used  to  the  idea  that  I  was  his  visitor,  and  a 

69 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

priest  in  a  sheik's  outfit.  When  once  he  understood 
the  real  situation  he  was  hospitality  itself. 

Now  that  I  had  a  prospect  of  obtaining  some  rest,  a 
feeling  of  complete  exhaustion  overtook  me.  I  had  no 
desire  for  anything  but  sleep  and  rest.  How  glad  I  was 
when  the  father  showed  me  a  room  where  I  could  lie 
down!  I  fell  at  once  into  a  sound  sleep,  and  the  kind 
priest  must  have  had  a  great  time  to  wake  me  two  hours 
afterwards  for  supper.  He  had  put  himself,  no  doubt, 
to  some  trouble  to  procure  some  extra  dishes,  but  I 
could  hardly  keep  my  eyes  open  while  partaking  of 
them.  The  priests  in  these  countries  must  be  extremely 
poor,  and  they  no  doubt  live  on  almost  nothing.  Though 
the  two  priests  seemed  anxious  to  have  a  talk  with  me 
after  dinner,  I  begged  them  to  allow  me  to  go  to  sleep. 
The  resident  priest  seemed  to  be  a  Frenchman,  while 
his  other  guest  was  a  full-blooded  Arab,  who  could 
speak  only  Arabic.  He  was  on  the  way  to  Nazareth, 
his  native  town.  The  long  sleep  completely  restored 
me,  and  I  awoke  in  the  morning  ready  to  resume  my 
journey. 

Daoud  waited  with  impatience  until  I  finished  mass 
in  the  little  mission  chapel  and  partook  of  a  breakfast. 
My  host  would  not  accept  payment  for  his  hospitality, 
so  nothing  was  left  to  do  but  to  leave  it  in  the  form  of 
stipends.  The  sun  was  already  far  up  in  its  diurnal 
span  when  Daoud,  the  Arab  priest,  and  myself  were 
crossing  the  valley  to  Djenine,  on  the  other  side  of  some 
distant  hills.  The  priest  wore  a  cassock,  and  over  his 
head  a  white  tarbush,  which  fluttered  in  the  wind  as  he 
rode  along.  He  was  mounted  on  a  fine  horse  and 
usually  took  the  lead  on  the  trail. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  we  came  to  Djenine,  the 
scriptural  Engannin,  where  Jesus  healed  the  ten  lepers. 
An  abundant  fountain  gushes  out  of  the  hillside,  which 
runs  by  the  few  miserable  dwellings  of  Djenine  and 

70 


ESDRELON  PLAIN. 


crosses  the  great  plain  of  Esdrelon,  which  now  spread 
out  before  us.  On  the  spot  where  Jesus  met  the  lepers 
a  large  Greek  or  Russian  convent  is  built,  but  the  in- 
mates are  so  fanatic  that  my  companions  would  not 
consent  to  visit  it.  From  the  gardens  of  this  convent, 
in  which  are  planted  a  great  many  fig  and  olive  trees, 
an  old  aqueduct  is  built,  and  crosses  the  trail  over  an 
arch.  It  formerly  carried  the  waters  of  the  Kison  over  the 
surrounding  higher  lands  for  irrigation.  Now,  however, 
the  clear  waters  rush  out  of  the  gardens  through  a  break 
in  the  aqueduct,  forming  a  limpid  stream  across  the 
trail  and  through  the  sloping  plain  of  Esdrelon.  The 
sight  of  this  brook,  gushing  from  beneath  the  shade  of 
luxurious  trees,  is  extremely  refreshing  to  the  dusty  trav- 
eler in  Palestine,  as  he  comes  from  the  barren  and  rocky 
mountains  of  Judea. 

The  plain  of  Esdrelon  is  one  of  the  most  extended 
and  beautiful  in  Palestine.  To  the  right  or  east,  little 
Hermon,  and  farther  on,  Tabor  rise  as  landmarks;  to 
the  left,  Carmel  shuts  out  the  view  to  the  sea.  In  the 
mountains  of  Gilboe,  which  flank  to  the  right,  Saul  met 
his  defeat  and  death.  The  Kison  flows  through  the 
midst  of  the  plain.  Some  parts  of  the  plain  are  dotted 
with  wheatfields,  whereas  the  middle  portions  of  it 
afford  fine  pasture  for  the  cattle.  The  roads,  or  paths 
rather,  are  free  from  rocks  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
traverse  them.  About  half  way  across  the  plain  gad- 
flies began  to  swarm  around  my  horse  and  he  became 
quite  unmanageable.  Daoud  began  to  shout  at  me 
"  de  bain, "  "  de  bain,"  as  if  in  danger  of  death,  and  made 
the  horse  still  more  frenzied.  As  I  did  not  know  what 
he  meant,  I  dismounted  and  let  Daoud  take  charge  of 
him,  while  I  got  on  the  ass.  As  long  as  these  asses  of 
Palestine  choose  to  keep  agoing  they  are  very  pleasant 
and  easy  to  ride.  But  woe  to  the  traveler  when  they  get 
tired  out,  he  will  have  to  expect  a  thousand  vexatious 

71 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

tricks.     Daoud,  after  vainly  trying  to  quiet  the  horse, 
soon  again  preferred  the  ass. 

Nain  was  visible  to  the  right.  It  is  the  village  where 
Jesus  called  the  son  of  the  widow  back  to  life,  as  they 
were  carrying  him  out  of  the  city  gates  for  burial. 
There  are  no  walls  or  gates  at  Nain  now,  only  a  col- 
lection of  ruins,  which  give  shelter  to  the  few  poverty- 
stricken  inhabitants.  Not  far  from  Nain,  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Hermon,  are  the  caves  of  Endor,  where  Saul 
persuaded  the  witch  to  conjure  up  the  prophet  Samuel. 
Instead  of  receiving  the  assurance  of  victory  over  his 
enemies,  he  heard  the  judgment  of  God  pronounced 
against  him.  That  day  he  came  to  an  ignominious  end. 
Mount  Tabor,  which  had  been  hidden  from  sight  by  the 
mountains  of  Gilboe,  became  visible  as  we  approached 
the  farther  limits  of  the  plain  of  Esdrelon.  Nazareth 
lay  in  a  hollow  on  the  rocky  heights  of  Galilee  ahead  of 
us.  As  we  began  to  climb  the  rough  trail  we  passed  a 
group  of  armed  Arabs,  who  scanned  us  with  sinister 
looks.  Farther  up  a  few  more  seemed  to  stand  as 
scouts.  As  our  appearance  was  not  particularly  promis- 
ing, we  were  not  molested. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NAZARETH  AND  ITS  SANCTUARIES  —  BROTHER  JEAN 
—  INFESTED  REGIONS  —  ENCOUNTER  ON  NOTED 
GROUNDS  —  BLIGHTED  SHORES  OF  GALILEE  —  AN 
ARAB  WEDDING  AT  NIGHT  —  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  A 
BOATLOAD  OF  FANATIC  MOSLEMS. 

Nazareth  is  not  visible  from  the  plain,  for  it  is  hidden 
on  a  high  plateau.  It  is  a  friendly-looking  town,  like 
Bethlehem.  People  seem  to  be  more  prosperous  and 
the  country  around  is  better  cultivated.  Trees  peer 
over  the  houses  and  there  are  orchards  on  its  outskirts. 
Just  as  we  reached  the  fine  wagon  road  that  was  built 
from  Haipha  to  Nazareth  in  the  expectation  of  the  Ger- 
man emperor's  visit,  two  kaw asses  came  galloping  past 
on  white  horses  in  advance  of  a  carriage  just  coming 
from  Haipha.  These  kawasses  like  to  show  their  horse- 
manship and  look  quite  gallant  when  they  approach 
a  town  where  they  know  there  is  no  need  of  using  their 
arms.  But  I  suspect  they  are  not  so  frisky  when  they 
come  into  the  presence  of  the  roving  Bedouins.  No 
doubt  they  would  afford  small  protection  in  an  attack. 

Daoud  brought  us  directly  to  the  Franciscan  hospice 
in  Nazareth.  These  hospices  are  useful  institutions  in 
Palestine,  for  there  the  pilgrim  finds  welcome  shelter  at 
all  times.  The  poor  are  received  with  as  much  hos- 
pitality as  the  rich.  The  fees  are  very  moderate,  and 
if  any  one  should  not  be  able  to  pay,  he  will  no  doubt 
be  allowed  to  depart  in  peace.  The  Franciscans  are 
found  established  at  most  of  the  holy  places,  and  it  is 
only  of  late  that  other  Catholic  orders  have  opened 
hospices  in  Jerusalem  also.  But  it  seems  that  at  the 

73 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

Nazareth  hospice  the  line  is  drawn  at  an  Arab  sheik. 
They  would  not  believe  that  I  was  a  Christian  pilgrim, 
much  less  a  priest.  Fortunately  for  me,  Bishop  Kelly 
from  Australia  just  happened  to  meet  me  in  the  reception 
room.  As  I  had  spoken  to  him  in  Casa  Nova  at  Jeru- 
salem, he  recognized  me  in  spite  of  the  Bedouin  clothes. 
Then  brother  Jean,  highly  amused  at  my  enterprise, 
received  me  quite  cordially  and  assigned  a  room  for  my 
use.  During  his  long  experience  he  had  not  met  a  pil- 
grim who  made  use  of  such  a  scheme  to  evade  the 
marauding  Arabs.  Daoud,  after  receiving  the  stipulated 
pay,  returned  to  Naplouse  that  afternoon. 

After  sending  a  despatch  to  my  companion  in  Jeru- 
salem, Brother  Jean  personally  conducted  me  and  Rev. 
Westermeyer,  a  priest  from  Tucson,  Arizona,  to  the 
noteworthy  places  in  Nazareth.  In  the  upper  part  of 
the  town  is  the  Mensa  Christi.  It  is  a  large  stone  about 
three  feet  high  and  six  by  nine  square,  with  an  almost 
flat  surface  on  top,  where  Christ  is  said  to  have  eaten 
with  his  apostles  after  the  resurrection.  A  fine  chapel 
is  built  over  this  stone.  Farther  down,  in  one  of  the 
crooked  streets,  are  the  remains  of  the  synagogue, 
whence  the  enraged  Jews  dragged  Jesus  in  order  to 
precipitate  him  from  the  cliff.  This  latter  is  about  a 
half  mile  out  of  town,  in  a  rugged  defile  in  the  mountain. 
The  most  remarkable  place  in  Nazareth  will  always  be 
the  place  where  the  Blessed  Virgin  lived  and  where  the 
angel  appeared  unto  Mary  to  announce  the  miraculous 
conception  of  the  Son  of  God.  This  spot  is  behind  the 
hospice,  inside  of  a  beautiful  church.  It  is  built  up  on  the 
old  foundation  of  St.  Helen's  church,  covering  the  former 
site  of  the  holy  house  of  Loretto,  and  the  caves,  that 
formed  part  of  the  dwelling  of  Jesus,  Mary  and  Joseph. 

As  you  enter  the  church  you  see  a  magnificent  high 
altar  rising  above  the  platform  in  front.  This  platform 
is  about  fifteen  feet  higher  than  the  main  body  of  the 

74 


"Hie  VERBUM  CARO  FACTUM  EST." 

church  and  forms  the  sanctuary.  The  church  is  beau- 
tifully decorated  throughout  and  the  stained  glass  win- 
dows shed  through  it  a  mellow  light.  Under  the  plat- 
form are  the  crypts  or  caves,  which  were  a  part  of  the 
dwelling  of  the  holy  family.  Fifteen  marble  steps, 
about  twelve  feet  wide,  lead  down  to  the  first  cave.  On 
the  spot  where  Mary  knelt  as  She  received  the  message 
of  the  angel  and  where  She  gave  her  blessed  consent  to 
the  Incarnation,  stands  the  altar  of  the  Annunciation. 
Lights  are  continually  burning  in  front  of  it.  The  walls 
of  the  cave  are  covered  with  marble  slabs,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  pillar  to  the  left,  where  the  angel  hovered, 
when  he  brought  the  message.  What  Christian's  heart 
is  not  moved  in  places  like  this,  where  such  heavenly 
mysteries  transpired?  Here  heaven  came  in  contact 
with  the  earth ;  here  the  darkness  of  sin  was  dispelled  by 
the  light  of  heaven ;  here  God  asked  the  lowly  Virgin  to 
become  his  Mother. 

Behind  the  altar  is  another  cave,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  the  kitchen  of  the  holy  family.  Adjoining  this,  a 
third  cave  formed  another  apartment.  The  brother 
showed  us  certain  remnants  which  indicated  in  what 
position  the  house  of  Loretto  must  have  stood  and  how 
it  was  joined  to  the  caves  so  as  to  form  one  dwelling  with 
them.  It  was,  and  is  even  now,  very  common  among 
the  Jews  to  build  their  dwelling  over  the  openings  of 
caves  in  such  a  way  so  as  to  make  use  of  them  as  part 
of  the  abode.  The  miraculous  transportation  of  the 
holy  house  of  Loretto  is  such  a  well  authenticated  fact 
that  none  but  the  hypercritical  find  difficulty  in  believing 
it.  As  I  knew  that  it  would  not  be  very  long  before  I 
would  see  Loretto,  I  took  particular  notice  of  circum- 
stances relating  to  this  sacred  spot  and  the  sanctuary  of 
Loretto.  Any  one  that  weighs  well  the  evidences  will 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  such  a  house  as  that  at 
Loretto  has  once  stood  here. 

75 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

The  workshop  of  St.  Joseph  is  not  far  from  the  church 
of  the  Annunciation ;  here  the  Crusaders  had  built  a  large 
basilica,  of  which  only  the  foundations  remain.  They 
have  been  excavated  by  the  Franciscans  and  are  plainly 
visible.  A  chapel  occupies  that  part  of  the  foundations 
which  enclose  the  old  workshop.  They  have  also  suc- 
ceeded in  buying  up  all  the  space  intervening  between 
the  church  and  the  workshop,  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  lot,  so  that  very  soon  all  the  space  connected  with 
the  workshop  of  her  spouse  and  the  dwelling  place  of 
the  holy  family  will  be  under  Franciscan  custody. 

The  next  morning  I  said  holy  Mass  on  the  spot  where 
the  blessed  Virgin  received  the  message  from  the  angel, 
and  where  the  word  was  made  flesh.  In  the  credo  of 
every  Mass  said  on  this  altar  the  priest  says,  "  Hie 
verbum  caro  factum  est,"  i.  e.,  "Here  the  word  was 
made  flesh."  Brother  Jean  is  quite  an  original  char- 
acter and  well  fitted  for  the  office  he  holds  as  manager  of 
the  hospice.  He  speaks  seven  different  languages. 
The  French  priests  fare  badly  in  his  estimation.  Out 
of  hundreds  of  them  that  he  had  met,  only  two  of  them 
acknowledged  that  the  French  people  are  falling  away 
from  the  faith.  Those  two,  however,  had  told  him  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  that  religion  has  no  hold  on  the  men 
in  France  and  that  the  churches  are  filled  mostly  by 
the  women.  If  it  is  necessary  to  see  an  evil  before  it 
can  be  corrected,  then  this  wilful  blindness  of  the  French 
clergy  is  certainly  a  bad  omen.  Three  American  priests 
were  camping  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  the  outskirts  of 
Nazareth.  They  were  in  charge  of  a  dragoman  and 
were  paying  850  francs  apiece  for  his  services  as  guide. 
This  is  an  enormous  price.  My  expenses  had  not  yet 
amounted  to  30  francs,  and  Rev.  Westermeyer,  who  trav- 
eled alone  with  a  moukar,  will  make  the  journey  from 
Jerusalem  to  Nazareth,  Tiberias,  Tabor,  and  Haipha  for 
about  140  francs.  Of  course  he  must  stop  over  night 

76 


START  FOR  TIBERIAS. 


wherever  he  finds  accommodation,  like  myself.  One 
that  does  not  know  how  to  be  independent  of  dragomen 
is  at  their  mercy.  They  increase  their  demands  in  pro- 
portion as  one  is  dependent  upon  them. 

After  dinner  brother  Jean  sent  me  a  moukar,  who 
was  to  bring  a  horse  for  my  trip  to  Tiberias  and  return. 
The  moukar  brought  a  horse  furnished  with  Arab  saddle 
and  stirrups.  But  the  wily  moukar,  instead  of  accom- 
panying me  to  take  care  of  the  horse,  as  was  agreed,  at 
the  first  turning  of  the  road,  left  me  and  the  horse  in 
charge  of  a  battered  and  ragged  piece  of  humanity,  who 
was  partly  lame,  almost  blind,  and  not  altogether  too 
sharp  of  hearing.  I  did  not  much  care  or  take  notice 
of  him  at  first,  but  when  I  perceived  that  in  addition  he 
was  not  very  sure  of  the  way,  all  his  other  deficiencies 
became  so  much  the  more  annoying.  Just  as  we  were 
leaving  Nazareth,  an  Arab  woman  ran  past  us  with 
dishevelled  hair  and  screaming.  She  was  pursued  by  a 
furious  Arab,  who  soon  seized  her  by  the  hair  and  struck 
her  in  the  face.  The  maddened  woman  seized  a  large 
stone  to  hurl  it  at  the  man.  I  suppose  this  is  one  of  the 
amenities  of  married  life  in  the  Arab  harems. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  town  we  passed  the  fountain 
of  Mary,  which  is  the  only  source  of  fresh  water  for 
Nazareth.  Two  large  jets  gush  from  a  ruined  alcove 
into  a  trough  and  from  there  meander  down  the  valley. 
All  day  long  the  women  of  Nazareth  are  seen  gathered 
around  this  fountain,  filling  their  earthen  jars,  washing 
their  clothes  and,  womanlike,  gossiping  with  each  other. 
Dexterously  they  balance  the  large  jars  containing 
three  or  four  gallons  of  water  on  top  of  their  heads  and 
walk  along  the  rough  streets  without  spilling  a  drop. 
This  accounts  for  the  straight  and  upright  carriage  of 
their  bodies,  which  is  so  noticeable  in  the  women  of 
Oriental  countries.  In  the  large  families  one  of  the 
females  is  deputed  to  do  this  water-carrying,  and  it 

77 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

keeps  her  busy  most  of  the  time.  The  water-jars  in  the 
Orient  would  do  good  service  in  running  opposition  to 
the  ice  companies  in  our  own  country.  For  the  water 
exudes  like  perspiration  through  the  porous  earthen- 
ware; if  the  jar  is  then  exposed  to  a  current  of  air,  the 
rapid  evaporation  of  the  thin  moisture  on  the  outside 
will  keep  the  water  cool  and  fresh.  Travelers  on 
horseback  or  on  foot  generally  carry  a  small  jar,  in 
which  the  water  is  always  kept  in  good  condition  by 
this  process. 

We  left  behind  us  several  hills  and  passed  a  village 
before  we  came  to  Kep  Kana,  where  Jesus  changed  the 
water  into  wine  at  the  marriage  feast.  The  Franciscans 
have  erected  a  chapel  over  the  foundations  of  an  older 
church  on  the  spot,  where  this  first  public  miracle  was 
wrought  by  the  Savior.  The  guardian  of  the  convent  on 
Mount  Tabor  happened  to  be  there  on  a  visit.  He  invited 
me  to  the  dwelling  and  regaled  me  with  a  glass  of  wine. 
A  little  farther  on  is  another  chapel  on  the  site  of  Nathan- 
ael's  house.  About  two  miles  from  Kana,  in  a  valley  to 
the  left,  is  seen  the  field,  where  the  apostles,  being  hungry, 
plucked  some  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sabbath.  The  Pharisees 
accused  them  of  having  thereby  violated  the  sabbath, 
but  Jesus  defended  them  against  their  hateful  aspersions. 
A  fine  field  of  grain  was  waving  even  then  in  the  same 
spot.  The  meadows  and  fields  hereabouts  are  in  a 
pleasant  contrast  with  the  barren  mountains  of  Judea 
and  eastern  Samaria,  which  I  had  traversed  on  the  first 
two  days.  The  road  gradually  ascends  to  a  high  ridge, 
about  a  mile  to  the  left  of  the  rude  village  Loubieh. 
The  Kouroun  Hattine,  or  hill  of  beatitudes,  stands  out 
boldly  against  the  blue  sky.  Here  Jesus  is  said  to 
have  taught  the  eight  beatitudes,  which  have  become 
the  foundation  of  all  Christian  civilization.  Six  hun- 
dred years  ago,  the  crusaders  made  their  last  stand 
against  the  Moslems  under  Saladin,  but  met  great 

78 


"HARAMi!" 

slaughter  and  defeat.  It  put  an  end  to  the  kingdom  of 
Jerusalem  after  a  duration  of  less  than  one  hundred 
years. 

I  desired  to  visit  the  summit  of  this  mountain,  where 
the  beatitudes  were  first  proclaimed,  and  I  accordingly 
turned  my  horse  off  the  road  to  ascend  to  its  summit. 
But  my  moukar  raised  loud  objections,  calling  out  with 
violent  gesticulations:  "Harami,  harami!"  (robbers, 
robbers),  refusing  to  follow.  As  the  ground  became 
too  rough  and  broken,  I  dismounted  and  tied  the  horse 
to  a  projecting  rock,  motioning  him  to  come  and  take 
charge  of  it,  while  I  proceeded  to  climb  the  hill  alone. 
The  place  looked  lonesome  and  rugged  enough,  but  as  I 
did  not  see  any  sign  of  human  life  either  around  its  sides 
or  on  its  summit,  I  pushed  on  till  I  reached  the  plateau 
of  the  mountain.  Ruins  of  an  old  church  are  still  scat- 
tered about,  while  several  rocks  jut  out  around  the  edges, 
which  give  this  mountain  its  present  name  of  Kouroun, 
or  Horns  of  Hattine.  A  beautiful  view  is  had  from  this 
summit.  To  the  northeast,  at  about  seven  miles  distance, 
the  large  town  of  Saphet  lies  scattered  over  the  brow  of 
a  hill.  To  the  east,  in  a  deep  basin,  surrounded  by 
mountains,  gleam  the  blue  waters  of  Genesareth.  Across 
the  lake  over  the  mountains  of  Moab,  the  snow-covered 
summit  of  the  greater  Hermon  caught  the  rays  of  the 
evening  sun.  To  the  southeast  stretches  the  woody 
valley  of  the  Jordan,  and  in  the  southwest,  Tabor's 
oval  heights  rise  over  the  plains  of  Esdrelon.  Carmel, 
behind  it,  shuts  off  the  view  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
The  mountains  of  Galilee  gradually  merge  into  the 
higher  Libanon  range  of  Syria. 

My  spurt  up  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes  had  consumed 
more  time  than  I  had  calculated  and  the  sun  was  now 
sinking.  As  I  again  resumed  the  saddle  to  traverse  the 
broken  ground  back  to  our  trail,  a  band  of  Bedouins 
were  coming  from  an  opposite  direction  along  the  road 

79 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

which  I  sought  to  regain.  Two  of  them,  on  horseback 
and  armed  with  carabines,  halted  as  they  saw  us  at  a 
distance,  and  then  left  the  road  and  crossed  the  fields  in 
a  gallop  toward  us.  I  did  not  know  what  their  intention 
was,  but  it  was  evidently  necessary  to  make  some  kind  of 
a  bluff,  if  I  did  not  want  to  be  molested.  So  I  boldly 
changed  my  direction  in  order  to  meet  them  squarely. 
They  halted  within  a  dozen  yards,  grasping  their  guns. 
As  a  counter  move  I  put  my  right  hand  to  my  belt  as  if 
ready  to  draw  a  weapon.  Evidently  they  were  puzzled 
and  expected  a  parley  at  least.  But  they  were  bound  to 
be  disappointed.  I  said  nothing,  not  even  "Salaam," 
for  my  dignity  of  sheik,  wearing  a  ten  times  better  haik 
than  they,  required  that  they  should  greet  me  first.  In  a 
puzzled  way  they  muttered  that  word  of  greeting  as  I  rode 
closely  past  them.  I  answered  with  a  surly  "Aleikun." 
They  must  have  readily  understood,  that  I  was  not  in- 
clined to  waste  too  much  of  my  Arabic  on  them.  But 
they  detained  my  sorry  guide  and  plied  him  with  ques- 
tions, while  I  rode  on  toward  the  trail.  I  don't  know 
what  fibs  the  guide  told  them  about  me,  but  they  released 
him  after  a  short  parley  and  he  came  trudging  on  behind. 
The  path  now  descended  rapidly  down  the  bluffs  to 
the  basin  of  the  lake.  The  dusk  began  to  settle  rapidly, 
and  as  it  became  quite  dark,  I  took  a  side  trail  in  the  hope 
of  reaching  the  valley  sooner.  The  guide  had  completely 
lost  his  way  and  stumbled  on  behind  me.  I  could  do 
nothing  but  trust  entirely  to  the  instinct  of  my  horse  to 
bring  me  again  to  the  main  road.  On  either  side,  some 
distance  from  our  course,  Bedouins  were  heard,  and 
groups  of  them  were  coming  toward  us,  holding  rude 
lanterns  in  our  directions.  I  urged  on  my  stumbling 
horse,  loudly  repeating  the  Arabic  words  which  I  had 
heard  Daoud  use  in  urging  on  his  beasts  of  burden.  In 
the  dark  of  course  the  Arabs  must  have  taken  us  for  one 
of  their  own  marauders  returning  to  Tiberias. 

80 


ARAB  NUPTIALS. 


Happily  my  horse  again  found  the  main  road  and 
long  before  we  reached  Tiberias,  we  saw  tiny  lights  far 
down  in  the  valley  gleaming  through  the  darkness. 
Coming  nearer,  we  were  surprised  to  find  that  the  lights 
we  had  seen,  were  small  bonfires  and  lanterns  used  by 
bands  of  Arabs  outside  the  old  city  walls.  They  were 
celebrating  some  Mahomedan  feast,  and  the  dull  rattling 
of  drums  and  the  sound  of  fifes  supplemented  the  bonfires. 
The  hospice  of  the  Franciscans  is  built  on  the  site  of  St. 
Peter's  house.  We  had  to  grope  our  way  through  the 
garbage  and  half-ruined  walls  of  several  streets,  before 
we  came  to  its  gate.  Spanish  fathers  and  two  Brazilian 
brothers  received  me  with  laughing  surprise  at  my  strange 
garb.  It  was  hard  to  do  justice  to  their  curious  inquiries 
and  to  the  substantial  supper  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

Afterwards  one  of  the  brothers  conducted  me  to  the 
flat  roof  of  the  three-storied  hospice,  in  order  to  see  some- 
thing of  an  Arab  wedding  going  on  in  one  of  the  neighbor- 
ing houses.  Sounds  of  festive  music  and  gaiety  were 
heard  long  before  the  real  ceremony  took  place.  At 
about  nine  o'clock  a  crowd  of  young  people  and  some 
men  were  seen  coming  slowly  from  the  upper  part  of  the 
town  with  lanterns  and  torches.  In  their  midst  the 
bride,  entirely  veiled,  was  led  by  some  of  her  relatives 
over  the  rough  street.  The  motley  crowd  of  Arabs, 
young  and  old,  kept  up  a  continual  singing  and  shouting, 
clapping  of  hands,  and  beating  of  cymbals.  One  shrill 
cry,  like  the  long-drawn  triller  of  frogs  in  early  spring, 
sounded  above  all  the  rest  of  the  noise.  The  flickering 
light  of  the  torches  lighted  up  the  earnest  faces  of  the 
swarthy  crowd  as  they  passed  in  front  of  the  hospice. 
The  bride  disappeared  behind  the  doors  of  the  house, 
while  most  of  the  men  and  children  remained  outside  in 
the  courtyard  and  the  street.  Only  the  shrill  frog-cry 
yet  resounded  at  intervals  from  the  interior  of  the  house. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  clamor  of  a  still  larger  pro- 
Si 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

cession  was  heard  coming  from  a  different  direction  of 
the  city.  It  was  the  bridegroom  seeking  his  bride.  He 
was  conducted  down  the  same  street  by  the  light  of  flar- 
ing torches.  A  crowd  of  men  were  singing  a  monotonous 
song  with  alternate  responses  like  a  litany.  They  were 
moving  along  sideways  in  two  rows,  and  at  each  response 
they  bowed  toward  the  bridegroom  almost  to  the  ground. 
Others  waved  their  torches,  struck  the  cymbals,  or 
played  the  flutes.  The  bridegroom,  blindfolded,  and 
with  hands  loosely  tied  in  front,  was  conducted  by  two 
guides  through  the  narrow  streets.  The  noise  became 
louder  as  they  passed  the  hospice,  and  ended  in  confused 
shouts  as  they  arrived  at  the  locked  gates  of  the  afore- 
mentioned courtyard.  The  whole  procession  seemed  to 
be*  in  suspense  for  a  while,  as  the  loud  knocks  at  the  gate 
resounded  through  the  night.  Now  and  then  also  the 
high,  quavering  notes  of  the  frog-cry  sounded  from  the 
interior  of  the  house.  At  length  the  gate  seemed  to  have 
been  forced  open,  and  the  bridegroom,  freed  from  his 
bonds,  rushed  alone  into  the  yard,  while  the  bride  was 
seen  rushing  down  a  stairs.  The  whole  scene  was  lit  up 
fantastically  by  the  flickering  torches.  They  fell  into 
each  other's  arms  and  disappeared  together  in  one  of  the 
side  doors  to  indulge  their  nuptial  rites  in  sacred  privacy. 
The  whole  crew  of  Arabs  outside  raised  a  shout,  for,  as 
in  the  regulation  novel,  the  loving  pair  had  found  each 
other  and  were  now  united.  There  was  nothing  left  for 
us  but  to  descend  from  the  roof  of  our  hospice; 
the  show  was  over. 

The  next  day  being  the  feast  of  Saint  George,  which 
is  a  duplex  here  (I  mention  this  for  the  benefit  of  my 
clerical  friends  who  are  accustomed  to  celebrate  it  as  a 
semi-duplex  in  the  United  States),  I  celebrated  his  mass 
in  preference  to  that  of  St.  Peter,  which  can  be  said  every 
day  of  the  year  on  this  altar.  After  mass  I  hired  a  boat 
to  row  to  the  ruins  of  Magdala,  Capharnaum,  and  Beth- 

82 


A  BOAT-RlDE. 


saida.  A  lazier  crew  than  the  one  I  had  happened  on 
never  pulled  oars.  Six  had  entered  the  boat  besides  the 
owner  and  myself.  But  only  two  of  them  at  a  time  did 
any  rowing.  The  rest  of  them  lay  dozing  or  chatting  on 
the  seats.  Once  or  twice  they  were  stung  to  exertion  by 
the  ridicule  which  I  served  out  to  them.  Magdala  is  now 
a  field  of  ruins,  where  bandits  watch  for  unprotected 
travelers,  or  the  jackal  prowls  about.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  Bethsaida  and  Capharnaum,  only  the  ruins  are 
more  extensive.  And  yet  the  lands  around  seem  to  be 
more  fertile  than  other  parts  of  the  country.  The  male- 
diction of  Jesus  Christ  over  these  once  flourishing  cities, 
as  over  the  rest  of  Palestine,  is  literally  fulfilled.  For 
nearly  all  the  towns  and  villages,  even  a  great  part  of 
Jerusalem,  are  only  heaps  of  ruins  and  the  inhabitants 
are  but  the  dregs  of  the  many  surrounding  and  distant 
nations,  that  have  been  left  behind  by  the  invading 
armies.  I  proposed  taking  a  bath  in  mid-lake.  But 
my  swarthy  boatmates  would  not  hear  of  it,  as  a  traveler 
had  been  drowned  some  time  ago  while  out  on  the  lake, 
and  the  crew  of  his  boat  had  been  seized  under  suspicion 
of  having  thrown  him  overboard.  I  believe  it  was  just 
as  well  that  they  did  refuse,  for  one  or  two  of  them  had 
listened  to  some  of  my  remarks  about  Mahomet  with 
quite  an  angry  scowl. 

Lake  Genesareth  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  some  six 
miles  wide  by  about  ten  long.  The  Jordan  enters  it  from 
the  north  and  issues  again  from  the  south,  flowing  on  about 
seventy  miles  to  be  lost  in  the  salty  waters  of  the  Dead 
Sea.  The  mountains  of  Moab  rise  in  high  barren  cliffs 
on  its  eastern  shore.  Only  one  of  the  many  towns  and 
villages  that  dotted  its  shores  during  the  time  of  Christ  still 
remains,  Tiberias,  containing  about  four  thousand  inhab- 
itants. It  is  nothing  but  a  large  collection  of  ruins  and 
mud-huts  surrounded  by  crumbling  fortification  walls. 
The  best  building  in  Tiberias  is  the  Franciscan  hospice. 

83 


CHAPTER  X. 

ACROSS  HILL  AND  DALE  TO  TABOR'S  HEIGHTS  —  SUR- 
PRISING A  CARAVAN  —  SACRED  SHRINES  OF  OLD  — 
AGAIN  AT  NAZARETH  —  COACHING  TO  HAIPHA. 

After  dinner  my  worthy  guide  stumbled  on  ahead  of 
me  through  a  breach  of  the  city  walls,  and  up  the  high 
bluffs  over  a  trail,  which  he  guessed  would  bring  us  to 
Mount  Tabor.  On  the  top  of  the  steep  declivities, 
however,  the  trail  branched  out  into  several  others  going 
in  different  directions.  As  he  blundered  into  a  path, 
which  led  into  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  south  of  us,  I 
simply  recalled  him  and  led  the  way  across  a  spacious 
valley,  which  lay  to  the  west,  and  at  the  head  of  which 
the  horned  crags  of  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes  lay  north- 
ward. As  I  urged  on  my  horse  at  a  fast  gait,  he  dropped 
behind,  and  had  lost  sight  of  me  by  the  time  my  horse 
began  to  climb  toward  a  ravine  on  the  opposite  ridge  of 
hills.  Like  many  others  of  the  natives  of  Palestine,  he 
suffered  from  sore  eyes  and  was  almost  blind.  The 
disease  is  brought  on  by  handling  dried  figs,  which  con- 
tain a  subtle  poison.  As  they  do  not  wash  their  hands 
very  frequently,  it  is  readily  brought  into  contact  with 
the  eyes.  When  I  was  on  the  point  of  entering  the 
ravine,  I  saw  my  guide  far  down  in  the  valley,  anxiously 
looking  for  me,  and  uttering  doleful  cries,  though  I  was 
in  plain  sight.  After  waiting  in  vain  for  a  while,  I  had 
to  ride  within  a  few  yards  of  him  before  he  saw  me  and 
heard  my  loud  calls. 

I  pointed  in  the  direction  of  Tabor  and  proceeded  up 
the  broken  ravine.  We  were  expecting  to  find  a  cool 
drink  at  the  fountain  head  of  a  rippling  stream,  which 

85 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

purled  down  over  the  rocks,  but  our  hopes  vanished, 
when  we  saw  several  men  and  children  bathing  in  the 
very  trough  of  the  spring.  On  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tain is  perched  a  half -ruined  village,  inhabited  by  bandit- 
like  Arabs.  From  there  we  could  distinguish  the  trail 
down  the  gradual  descent  to  the  foot  of  Tabor.  About 
two  miles  farther  on,  Koud-el-khan  guards  the  trail  on 
both  sides  like  two  forts.  It  was  formerly  used  as  a 
gathering  place  for  the  cattle  and  camel  drivers  from 
across  the  Jordan  and  from  the  south.  Here  they  made 
their  exchange  between  Egypt  and  Arabia  before  the 
time  of  railroads  and  canals.  Koud-el-khan  is  in  ruins 
now  and  a  favorite  resort  of  nomad  Bedouins.  The 
neighborhood  affords  fine  pastures  and  the  small  stream 
in  the  valley  is  fringed  with  growths  of  trees  and  shrub. 
Down  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream,  a  tall  Arab  had 
dismounted  from  his  white  horse  and  was  performing  his 
prayers  toward  Mecca  with  many  a  profound  bow  and 
prostration.  The  mellow  light  of  the  evening  sun  fell 
across  his  gaunt,  dark  features.  He  took  no  notice  of 
us  as  we  forded  the  stream  near  by. 

The  country  around  Tabor  is  well  wooded;  the 
mountain  itself  is  clothed  in  green,  though  the  trees  are 
not  of  large  size.  Shadows  were  now  darkening  the 
valleys,  and  the  sinking  sun  slanted  across  our  path,  that 
zigzagged  up  among  the  trees  and  shrubbery  of  the 
western  side  of  the  mountain.  But  darkness  had  settled 
over  the  country  before  we  arrived  at  the  old  fortification 
walls  on  the  summit.  The  Franciscan  hospice  is  on  the 
eastern  end  of  the  oval-shaped  plateau.  The  crusaders 
had  built  walls  around  the  whole  top ;  and  a  church  on 
the  ruins  of  an  older  one,  which  marked  the  spot  of  the 
Transfiguration.  All  these  are  now  in  ruins,  near  the 
hospice. 

We  were  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  a  cavalcade  of 
horses  tied  up  on  the  sides  of  the  road.  But  that  was 

86 


ON  TABOR. 

soon  explained  when  we  came  to  the  open  door  of  a  hall, 
from  which  lights  were  gleaming.  In  the  hall  a  long 
table  was  set  with  many  plates.  About  twenty  members 
of  the  Cologne  pilgrimage  were  standing  or  sitting,  some 
of  them  in  lively  conversations.  Father  Gustos,  whom  I 
had  seen  the  day  before  at  Kana,  was  standing  opposite 
the  entrance,  talking  to  two  of  the  caravan.  He  saw  me 
enter,  but  thinking  it  was  only  one  of  the  moukars  of  the 
caravan,  took  no  further  notice  of  me.  I  had  to  approach 
and  assure  him  that  I  was  the  person  he  had  seen  yester- 
day. Then  one  of  the  caravan,  by  the  name  of  Ruf, 
from  Bavaria,  came  up  and  exclaimed :  "  O,  das  ist  ja  der 
Amerikaner!"  Of  course  the  rest  of  the  party,  with 
most  of  whom  I  had  made  the  trip  to  Emmaus,  now 
crowded  up  and  fully  identified  me.  I  was  busy  answer- 
ing their  questions  for  the  next  hour  during  supper.  I 
thought  most  of  them  looked  pretty  well  worn  out  by 
their  trip.  One  of  them  had  his  arm  in  a  sling,  as  he  had 
sprained  it  by  a  fall  from  his  horse.  All  went  to  sleep 
early,  for  they  wanted  to  continue  on  their  way  to  Tibe- 
rias before  sunrise  in  the  morning. 

At  four  o'clock  sleep  was  cut  short  by  the  bustle  and 
noise  of  preparation  for  their  departure.  I  myself  said 
mass  in  the  chapel  of  the  Transfiguration  later  on,  and 
Father  Gustos  showed  me  around  after  the  caravan  had 
left.  The  plateau  of  Tabor  was  first  encircled  by  a  wall 
under  the  Romans  by  Flavius  Josephus,  the  historian. 
Later  on  the  crusaders  extended  and  strengthened  these 
walls.  When  the  Moslems  again  took  possession  of 
Palestine,  they  tore  down  the  church  and  made  great 
additions  to  the  citadel  in  conformity  with  Oriental  taste. 
The  ruins  of  this  citadel  still  cover  a  large  area  of  the  east 
end  of  the  mount.  To  judge  by  these  ruins  there  must 
have  been  a  strong  garrison  and  the  commanders  must 
have  lived  in  magnificently  furnished  quarters.  On  the 
north  side  of  the  plateau  the  Russian  monks  have  their 

87 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

own  large  establishment.  Descending  Tabor  by  the  same 
trail  on  which  we  had  come  up,  we  took  a  road  branching 
off  to  the  left  at  the  foot  of  the  mount.  We  soon  passed 
the  village  of  Tabourieh  and  crossed  a  torrent.  After 
surmounting  three  barren  mountains  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  torrent,  we  pursued  our  way  back  to  Nazareth.  I 
was  so  tired  out  that  I  fell  asleep  on  my  stumbling  nag 
several  times.  I  had  made  the  trip  to  Tiberias  and  Tabor 
in  about  half  the  usual  time.  The  remaining  part  of  the 
day  was  devoted  to  rest  and  sleep. 

The  next  day  there  was  quite  a  change  in  my  mode 
of  traveling.  Father  Hermann  Schwarzer,  of  St.  Peter's 
Institute  in  Jerusalem,  was  about  to  depart  for  Haipha 
in  a  carriage.  I  made  arrangements  to  go  with  him. 
A  native  merchant  was  also  in  our  company.  We  en- 
joyed the  ride  thoroughly,  and  I  incidentally  learned  a 
little  Arabic.  He  invited  me  to  make  a  trip  in  a  boat 
on  the  Jordan  from  Tiberias  to  the  Dead  sea.  Of 
course  I  regretted  very  much  that  I  could  not  spare  the 
time.  The  scenery  along  the  road  is  not  so  bad  for  a 
country  like  Palestine.  Coming  out  of  Nazareth  over 
the  brow  of  the  hills  and  skirting  along  the  mountains 
that  border  the  plains  of  Esdrelon,  we  had  some  fine 
glimpses  of  Carmel  and  the  Mediterranean.  Reaching 
the  plain  we  stopped  at  a  picturesque  khan,  where  an 
old  Greek  papa  was  sitting  on  a  stool.  He  immediately 
asked  me  for  some  stipends.  A  few  miles  east  of  Haipha 
the  road  crosses  the  Kison.  Along  its  valley  a  railroad 
is  in  course  of  construction  for  the  last  seven  or  eight 
years.  They  have  already  built  four  or  five  miles  of 
road,  and  perhaps  in  fifty  or  sixty  years  they  will  reach 
Tiberias,  that  is,  if  they  keep  up  the  present  rapid  con- 
struction. But  who  can  tell?  There  were  at  least  a 
half  dozen  men  at  work  on  the  road  as  we  passed. 

Haipha  is  a  lively  town,  full  of  business,  though  on  a 
small  scale.     It  is  built  on  the  north  side  of  the  long- 

88 


HAIPHA. 

stretched  Carmel.  But  it  is  fully  two  miles  distant  from 
the  end  of  the  promontory,  which  the  mountain  forms. 
The  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  make  quite  a  bend 
around  the  mountain,  so  that  Haipha  is  squeezed  in 
between  the  north  side  of  Carmel  and  the  seashore. 

Father  Schwarzer  betook  himself  to  the  convent  of  the 
Ratisbon  German  Sisters,  while  I  intended  to  take  lodg- 
ing in  the  Franciscan  hospice  in  Haipha.  But  the  burly 
brother  that  opened  the  door  eyed  me  suspiciously,  and 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  Bedouin.  Evidently 
he  suspected  that  I  came  for  no  good  intent,  and  he  shut 
the  door  on  me  without  ceremony.  The  next  best  thing 
to  do  was  to  try  my  luck  at  the  door  of  the  great  Carmelite 
monastery,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  up  Mount  Carmel. 
The  sun  was  about  to  sink  and  its  last  rays  fell  upon  the 
old  buildings,  which  stood  out  in  bold  profile  against 
the  sky  on  the  western  bluffs  of  the  mountain.  The 
path  leads  gradually  up  the  woody  sides  and  passes 
round  the  front  of  the  promontory.  Again  the  French 
brother  that  received  me  was  startled  at  my  appearance, 
but  I  would  not  be  put  off  so  easily  this  time :  I  simply 
stayed.  Several  times  during  the  evening,  as  he  sat 
opposite  me  and  shaking  his  head,  he  said :  "  Pourquoi 
avez  vous  pris  ces  habiliments?"  He  could  not  under- 
stand why  I  did  not  travel  in  a  cassock.  To  tell  the 
truth,  his  scruples  troubled  me  very  little,  as  long  as  I 
had  prospects  of  a  good  meal  and  a  good  sleep;  they 
did  not  interfere  with  these. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WOODED  CARMEL  —  STROLLS  AT  HAIPHA  —  FORCED 
MARCHES  ALONG  MEDITERRANEAN  SHORES  —  LODG- 
ING IN  A  KHAN  —  LYDDA  TO  JERUSALEM  ON  THE 
" LIMITED"  —  PRACTICAL  HINTS. 

On  the  next  morning  a  German  father  showed  me 
the  extensive  buildings  of  the  monastery  and  hospice. 
The  origin  of  this  monastery  dates  back  to  the  time  of 
Elias;  for,  ever  since  he  dwelt  in  the  cave  over  which 
the  church  is  built,  hermits  have  sought  retirement  on 
this  isolated  promontory.  Many  Essenes  or  Jewish 
ascetics  lived  here  before  the  coming  of  the  Messiah. 
After  the  ascension  of  Christ,  Christians  began  to  inhabit 
the  wild  caves  of  the  mountain.  Since  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury, Carmelite  monks  have  located  here.  In  the  grotto 
of  Elias  the  most  prominent  object  is  the  beautiful 
statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  above  the  high  altar.  From 
the  roof  of  the  monastery  there  is  an  extensive  view  along 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  to  Akka  and  Beirout, 
paralleled  by  the  Libanus  mountain-chain. 

Brother  Ambrose  would  not  hear  a  word  of  my  re- 
turning alone  to  Jerusalem  along  the  seacoast.  He 
would  not  even  give  me  any  information  regarding  the 
road,  in  order  not  to  be  accessory  to  any  harm  that 
might  befall  me.  He  claimed  that  a  lonely  traveler 
would  certainly  be  held  up  by  roving  bands.  As  he  was 
so  inflexible  in  his  opinion,  I  decided  to  hunt  up  Father 
Schwarzer  in  Haipha.  At  the  convent  where  he  was  on 
a  visit,  the  sister  would  not  unlock  the  iron  picket  gate 
of  the  enclosure,  when  such  a  strange  looking  individual 
as  myself  in  Arab  clothes  desired  entrance.  But  Rev. 

91 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

Schwarzer  soon  set  them  at  ease,  and  told  them  I  was 
not  quite  as  dangerous  as  I  looked.  He  and  the  chaplain 
of  the  convent  were  just  as  emphatic  in  trying  to  dissuade 
me  from  going  alone  to  Jerusalem  by  way  of  the  plains 
of  Samaria.  But  they  finally  yielded  so  far  as  to  promise 
to  procure  a  moukar  with  two  horses.  I  was  to  set  out 
early  next  morning. 

In  the  afternoon,  Father  Schwarzer  and  I  had  quite  an 
extended  walk  through  the  German  Protestant  Tem- 
plars' settlement  and  up  the  long  ridge  of  Mount  Carmel. 
Everywhere  along  the  slope  of  the  mountain,  the  fields 
and  vineyards  of  those  thrifty  colonists  could  be  seen. 
Their  houses,  in  the  western  part  of  Haipha,  are  sur- 
rounded by  gardens,  and  look  very  neat.  On  the  eastern 
end  of  Carmel  they  have  an  immense  hospice  in  the 
midst  of  extensive  vineyards.  From  here  we  could  also 
enjoy  a  beautiful  view  of  the  plains  of  Esdrelon.  The 
Kison,  winding  in  many  a  graceful  bend  through  the 
green  valley,  reflected  the  blue  of  the  evening  sky. 
Haipha  lay  at  our  feet  far  below,  and  the  settlement  of 
the  Templars,  with  its  rows  of  trees  and  the  bright 
colored  houses,  contrasted  pleasantly  with  the  crumbling 
houses  and  shops  of  the  Turkish  settlement  on  its  east 
end. 

Next  morning  at  sunrise,  the  moukar  brought  a  fine 
horse,  while  he  himself  bestrode  a  mare,  somewhat  lame, 
but  which  kept  up  a  lively  pacing  nearly  the  whole  day. 
Like  all  Arabs,  he  was  very  monosyllabic,  merely  beck- 
oning me  not  to  lag  behind.  Our  way  led  around  the 
promontory  of  Carmel  and  then  through  the  widening 
plains,  which  slope  gently  down  the  receding  mountains 
to  the  sea.  For  the  first  ten  or  twelve  miles  the  plains 
are  pretty  well  cultivated,  and  our  road  was  generally  a 
mere  path  through  the  wheatfields.  Our  horses  every 
now  and  then  could  not  be  restrained  from  cropping 
some  of  the  ears  at  the  side  of  the  path,  nor  was  my 

92 


SEACOAST  PLAINS. 


moukar  so  very  anxious  to  restrain  them.  The  way 
diverged  from  the  seashore,  so  that  at  noon  time,  when 
we  held  our  frugal  meal  in  an  immense  vineyard,  we 
were  quite  a  distance  eastward  from  Caesarea,  which 
lies  halfway  between  Haipha  and  Jaffa,  on  the  shore  of 
the  Mediterranean.  An  hour  later  we  came  to  a  dilap- 
idated water-mill  by  the  side  of  a  small  stream.  I  won- 
dered to  find  even  that  much  enterprise,  though  the  mill 
looked  small  and  primitive  enough.  Some  miles  beyond 
this  we  crossed  some  marshy  stretches,  which  again  gave 
way  to  groupings  of  olive  and  other  trees :  a  region  quite 
different  from  the  stony  deserts  of  Judea  and  Samaria. 
My  moukar  pushed  lustily  onward,  his  limping  mare 
always  ahead  and  pacing  most  of  the  time.  At  about 
four  o'clock,  we  had  reached  the  plains  of  Samaria, 
where  a  gentle  breeze  from  the  sand  dunes  to  the  west 
softly  swept  through  the  ripening  wheatfields  around  us. 
The  soil  must  be  very  productive  here  and  the  people 
more  industrious  than  in  other  parts  of  Palestine. 

My  moukar  got  into  scarcely  distinguishable  by- 
paths and  changed  directions  several  times,  evidently 
puzzled  as  to  the  right  way.  Ruinous  villages  were 
visible  in  the  plains  and  on  the  hillsides,  towards  one  of 
which  we  were  tending  at  setting  of  the  sun.  I  was  in 
hopes  it  would  prove  to  be  the  stopping  place  for  the 
night,  for  we  had  been  laboriously  traveling  since  early 
morning.  But  the  moukar  hastened  past  a  group  of 
natives  gathered  at  the  well  outside  the  walls,  and  pointed 
to  a  lonely  building  in  a  wide  plain.  At  this  khan  we 
arrived  at  dusk  and  were  received  by  a  Turk  in  some 
kind  of  old  uniform.  The  building  consisted  of  four 
walls,  enclosing  a  square  courtyard,  and  so  arranged  as 
to  form  sheds  for  beasts  toward  the  interior.  Above  one 
of  these  sheds  one  solitary  small  room  was  supposed  to 
furnish  shelter  for  travelers.  I  was  not  slow  in  dis- 
mounting and  crossing  the  filthy  courtyard  to  the  sump- 

93 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

tuous  lodging  upstairs.  As  I  pushed  open  the  door, 
three  rude  couches,  a  stool,  and  a  rickety  table  gave  but 
faint  prospects  of  rest  to  tired  limbs.  But  there  was  at 
least  one  of  nature's  best  refreshments  to  be  had:  cool 
water.  Immediately  outside  the  door  on  the  roof  of 
the  shed,  a  huge  waterwheel  was  slowly  revolving  on  its 
wooden  axles  driven  by  a  mule  downstairs.  Creaking 
and  groaning,  it  laboriously  brought  up  small  buckets 
full  of  water  from  the  well  and  automatically  emptied 
them  into  a  trough.  A  stream  of  this  water  entered  the 
room  at  one  corner  and  flowed  in  an  open  gutter  on  the 
floor  and  out  through  an  opening  at  the  opposite  end. 
Here  it  splattered  down  into  a  large  stone  reservoir  out- 
side the  walls  of  the  house  to  be  distributed  for  irrigation 
through  the  adjoining  fields.  I  thought  it  a  fine  arrange- 
ment and  I  immediately  procured  the  luxury  of  a  cool 
footbath  in  the  running  stream. 

But  I  waited  in  vain  for  something  to  eat,  and  not 
until  I  had  hunted  up  my  moukar,  did  the  keeper  bring 
up  a  little  of  the  pancake-bread,  no  better  than  that 
which  I  had  refused  to  eat  on  the  first  two  days  of  my 
trip.  In  addition,  also  some  eggs,  fried  in  dirty  grease, 
and  a  tin-cup  full  of  coffee.  The  moukar  and  myself 
partook  of  this  frugal  meal ;  that  is,  I  tried  to  make  my 
moukar  eat  it  all,  if  possible,  for  I  had  not  yet  arrived  at 
such  a  point  of  starvation  as  to  relish  the  disgusting 
victuals.  He  was  not  at  all  slow  to  seize  such  an  advant- 
age. A  third,  most  ragged  inmate  had  entered  and 
thrown  himself  on  one  of  the  couches,  while  the  moukar 
and  myself  sought  the  others.  However,  I  soon  found 
out,  that  if  these  couches  were  not  padded  with  blocks 
of  wood,  they  must  have  been  lined  with  harder  and 
more  uneven  boulders.  Music  also  was  not  wanting  in 
this  hostelry ;  besides  the  insidious  songs  of  bloodthirsty 
gnats,  my  moukar  and  the  other  inmate  vied  in  stentori- 
ous  snores  in  all  varieties  of  deepfelt  expression,  min- 

94 


AT  LYDDA. 

uendos,  crescendos,  and  fortissimos, —  literally  "to  beat 
the  band"  of  mosquitos.  Many  times  during  the  night 
I  turned  on  that  merciless  couch,  where  even  weariness 
could  not  woo  the  blessed  sleep. 

Next  morning  we  found  ourselves  again  astride  of 
our  horses  traversing  the  gentle  undulations  of  Samaria. 
Early  in  the  forenoon,  a  large  caravan  of  camels  heralded 
their  approach  from  afar  by  their  peculiar  odor.  The 
Arabs  smear  some  kind  of  grease  or  tar  over  the  skin  of 
the  camels  in  order  to  protect  them  from  flies  and  from 
the  exposure  of  travel.  This,  of  course,  does  not  add 
any  particular  attractiveness  to  a  herd  of  these  patient 
animals.  Some  miles  farther,  one  of  the  camels  had  been 
left  to  its  fate  by  the  Arabs,  probably  because  its  days  of 
service  were  at  an  end.  About  noon,  Lydda,  where  I  was 
to  take  the  train  for  Jerusalem,  hove  into  distant  view. 
Miles  and  miles  of  the  finest  wheatfields  lay  yet  between, 
and  it  seems  that  here  the  fruitfulness  of  the  Holy  Land 
is  fully  up  to  its  old  record.  Around  Lydda  large  olive 
orchards,  fenced  by  high  cactus  hedges,  lined  both  sides 
of  the  road.  Lydda  is  but  a  collection  of  the  usual 
ruinous  huts,  though  in  the  first  century  it  was  the  centre 
of  an  important  diocese  and,  no  doubt,  a  large  town. 
St.  George  was  born  here,  and  for  several  centuries  his 
body  rested  in  a  large  and  beautiful  church.  Now  there 
is  only  a  crumbling  Greek  chapel  on  the  site  of  the  former 
cathedral.  The  habitation  of  the  Russian  monks,  who 
have  charge  of  this  spot,  stands  near  by  in  no  better 
condition. 

The  railroad  station  is  about  one  mile  from  the 
village.  I  had  just  enough  gold  left  to  give  the  moukar 
two  napoleons  and  pay  the  fare  to  Jerusalem.  I  was 
yet  in  time  for  an  extra  train,  entirely  empty,  which  on 
its  return  was  to  carry  some  hundreds  of  Russian  pil- 
grims back  to  Jaffa.  On  the  train  I  could  stretch 
myself  in  full  length  upon  the  vacant  benches,  until  we 

95 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

reached  Jerusalem.  At  the  hospice,  the  first  one  who 
welcomed  me  was  AH,  and  I  learnt  that  my  absence  had 
caused  some  apprehension.  My  traveling  companion 
had  in  the  meanwhile  suffered  a  severe  attack  of  the 
fever  peculiar  to  Jerusalem,  and  had  been  out  of  the 
house  only  twice  during  the  ten  days  of  my  absence. 
He  had  many  words  of  praise  for  the  excellent  care  taken 
of  him  during  his  sickness.  It  seems  he  had  also  worried 
a  great  deal  about  my  safety. 

PRACTICAL  HINTS.  To  a  Christian  traveler  the  Holy  Land 
must  always  be  the  most  interesting  land  on  earth.  For  here 
our  Salvation  was  begun,  and  here  is,  as  it  were,  the  focus  of  all 
the  world's  history  and  of  civilization.  But  in  order  to  arrive  at 
a  true  estimate  of  the  things  seen  in  the  Holy  Land,  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  be  somewhat  informed  of  the  history  of  the  Jews  and 
of  the  Christian  faith.  Moreover,  all  must  be  viewed  in  the  light 
of  faith.  Thousands  of  tourists  depart  after  a  few  days'  stay, 
entirely  disgusted  with  the  ruinous  appearance  of  many  remark- 
able spots,  the  warring  and  strife  between  different  religions,  the 
poverty  and  degradation  of  the  inhabitants.  Thus,  instead  of 
seeing  their  ideals  of  the  holy  places  realized,  they  find  them 
entirely  destroyed.  But  let  the  traveler  look  beneath  the  surface 
and  try  to  account  for  the  conditions,  and  he  will  depart  strength- 
ened in  faith  and  even  much  edified.  In  order  to  obtain  such  a 
result,  it  is  necessary  to  make  a  longer  stay.  No  visit  to  Palestine 
is  complete  without  including  the  tour  to  Jericho,  Bethlehem,  and 
Nazareth,  at  least.  Traveling  in  a  caravan  is  expensive  and  soon 
irksome.  It  is  better  to  incur  a  little  more  trouble  and  hardship, 
and  make  the  trip  with  a  moukar.  Of  course  carrying  tents  is 
then  out  of  the  question.  The  company  of  one  or  two  friends  will 
make  the  trip  still  more  pleasant.  The  expenses  of  a  trip  with  a 
moukar  are  not  high.  The  dangers  of  being  robbed  are  probably 
much  exaggerated  by  tourist  agencies  and  dragomen,  who  would, 
of  course,  lose  customers  by  the  more  venturesome  mode  of  travel. 
I  do  not  see  what  three  or  four  healthy  Europeans  would  need  to 
fear  from  the  roving  Bedouins,  even  if  there  would  be  a  band  of 
them.  Besides,  if  they  dress  in  poor  garb,  they  would  be  in  no 
danger,  even  singly.  Plunder  is  what  attracts  the  Bedouin.  He 
will  not  seek  it,  where  none  is  evident. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ECCE  HOMO  ARCH  —  SAINT  ANNE'S  TOMB  —  THE 
CAVE  OF  THE  AGONY  —  RUSSIAN  FORESIGHT  — 
AMONG  OLD  TOMBS  AND  MONUMENTS  —  ST.  PETER'S 
INSTITUTE  —  CAVERNS  or  JERUSALEM. 

After  a  short  rest  we  were  again  on  our  tour  of  visits 
to  notable  places  in  and  around  Jerusalem.  One  of  our 
first  was  to  the  church  and  convent  of  Ecce  Homo.  The 
arch  of  the  Ecce  Homo  is  said  to  be  a  remnant  of  the 
platform  on  which  the  perfidious  Pilate  exhibited  the 
Savior  in  a  red  military  cloak  after  the  scourging,  and 
the  crowning  with  thorns.  It  is  about  thirty  feet  high 
and  curves  from  the  right  side  of  the  narrow  street  into 
the  wall  of  the  recently  built  chapel  of  the  Ratisbon 
convent,  which  is  only  a  short  distance  from  our  hospice 
along  the  street  running  straight  to  St.  Stephen's  gate. 
What  a  fearful  sight  it  must  have  been  for  the  few  faith- 
ful souls,  to  see  our  Savior  standing  on  the  high  porch, 
streaming  with  blood,  his  body  only  half  covered  by  the 
loose  mantle,  and  his  very  skull  pierced  by  the  long 
thorns  of  the  horrid  crown;  and  how  the  cry:  " Crucify 
Him,  crucify  Him,"  from  the  infatuated  populace  must 
have  resounded  like  echoes  from  deepest  hell!  How  ter- 
ribly the  curse  of  his  blood  has  descended  upon  the  race 
and  all  their  children!  Throughout  the  world  they  are 
now  scattered,  without  temple,  without  worship,  without 
hope  of  return  to  the  land  of  their  forefathers.  Against 
their  will  they  are  witnesses  of  the  power  of  Him  whom 
they  then  despised. 

Some  rods  farther  along  the  same  street,  amid  heaps 
of  ruins,  are  some  very  old  tombs,  which  the  Moslems 

97 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

hold  in  high  veneration.  This  does  not  mean,  however, 
that  they  lavish  much  care  on  the  outward  appearance 
of  the  tombs.  They  are  allowed  to  fall  to  ruin  no  less 
than  the  crumbling  walls  around  them.  Going  out  of 
St.  Stephen's  gate  and  crossing  the  Kidron,  one  comes 
to  a  level  piece  of  ground,  paved  with  stone  flags.  One 
of  the  Franciscans  told  us,  that  no  doubt  most  interesting 
remains  will  be  found  beneath  them  if  once  they  can 
obtain  possession  and  start  excavations  on  the  spot. 
On  one  side  of  this  level  plat  rises  the  front  wall  of  one  of 
the  oldest  churches  in  Jerusalem.  It  is  the  reputed  tomb 
of  the  Virgin  Mary.  The  body  of  the  church  is  buried 
almost  to  the  eaves  beneath  the  accumulated  debris. 
From  the  above  mentioned  court,  a  pavement  leads  down 
to  a  wide  flight  of  marble  stairs,  descending  about  thirty 
feet  to  the  original  floor  of  the  church.  The  church  was 
formerly  in  charge  of  the  Franciscans,  but  is  now  in  the 
hands  of  the  Russian  monks  and  of  the  Armenians. 

It  is  seldom  opened  for  visitors,  but  profiting  of  such 
an  occasion  a  few  days  later,  we  joined  the  crowds  of 
pilgrims,  that  were  attending  service  in  honor  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin.  Half  way  down  the  stairs,  in  niches 
built  off  a  break  in  the  descent,  are  the  tombs  of  St. 
Joachim  and  Anne  to  the  right,  and  of  St.  Joseph  to  the 
left.  The  body  of  the  church  is  entirely  dark,  for  the 
debris  outside  rises  higher  than  the  windows.  Only  the 
open  door  above  and  the  flickering  light  of  the  candles 
dispelled  some  of  the  darkness  within.  The  church  is 
built  in  the  shape  of  a  cross,  formed  by  caves  on  three 
ends,  and  the  stairs  on  the  fourth.  The  drawling  chant 
of  the  Armenian  priests  sounded  up  to  us  from  the  right 
arm  of  the  church.  Pressing  through  the  crowd  we  saw 
the  red-robed  priests  officiating  before  a  monument  or 
tomb.  The  light  of  candles  shone  from  the  openings  of 
this  tomb  and  lit  up  the  faces  of  the  bystanders.  The 
priests  had  to  stoop  almost  to  the  ground  in  order  to 

98 


TOMB  OF  MARY. 


enter  through  the  small  opening  to  the  interior  of  the 
tomb.  They  were  chanting  alternate  responses  with 
the  choir  outside.  While  we  wormed  our  way  through 
the  worshipers,  there  was  a  sudden  commotion  in  front : 
two  priests  came  out  through  the  narrow  opening  of  the 
tomb  bearing  two  chalices  to  an  altar  in  the  background. 
One  of  them  with  a  golden  spoon,  dealt  out  morsels 
steeped  in  some  liquid  to  the  people.  They  came  up 
and  stood  before  him  with  their  hands  dangling  down 
their  sides.  I  did  not  think  their  way  of  dealing  out 
holy  communion  particularly  reverend.  The  people  be- 
gan to  squeeze  into  the  narrow  opening  on  the  side  of  the 
tomb  .and  file  out  at  the  other  end ;  we  among  the  rest. 

The  interior  of  the  tomb  presents  nothing  remarkable, 
except  the  brilliant  illumination.  Beneath  a  slab  or 
table  of  marble,  fitting  into  a  recess,  is  said  to  be  the 
last  resting  place  of  Mary.  Here  lay  the  sacred  body  of 
the  Virgin  and  from  this  spot,  reunited  to  her  immaculate 
soul,  it  was  assumed  into  heaven  to  be  seated  at  the  right 
hand  of  her  son,  as  Queen  of  the  universe.  What  a 
glorious  sight  it  will  be  for  us,  if  we  shall  once  be 
privileged  to  see  Her  in  her  glory!  That  alone  would 
be  worth  more  than  the  possession  and  enjoyment  of 
all  the  rest  of  the  created  things.  To  the  left  of  the 
stairs  is  a  well,  the  waters  of  which  are  held  sacred. 
This  church  dates  back  to  the  time  of  Constantine  and 
was  always  in  possession  of  the  Latins;  but  by  the 
united  rapacity  of  the  Russians,  Armenians,  and  Copts, 
the  Franciscans  have  been  deprived  of  its  custody. 
Confusion  and  neglect  surround  the  tomb  of  the  Virgin 
in  consequence.  The  vault  of  the  whole  interior  is  black 
with  soot  and  dirt  and  no  attempt  is  made  to  decorate 
in  a  befitting  manner  so  sacred  a  place. 

On  the  same  morning  I  said  Mass  in  the  grotto  of  the 
Agony,  which  is  only  fifty  steps  or  so  from  the  tomb  of 
Mary.  It  is  a  very  large  cave  of  oval  shape.  In  the 

99 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

rear  stands  the  altar,  where  colored  lights  are  maintained 
day  and  night  by  the  Franciscan  brother,  who  is  in  charge. 
On  the  rough  rocks  above  are  still  seen  the  remains  of 
ancient  paintings.  Under  this  dark  roof,  prostrate  on  the 
hard  rocks,  Jesus  began  his  passion.  Three  times  He 
interrupted  his  prayers  in  order  to  console  his  apostles, 
who  were  lying  under  the  olive  trees  outside.  While  we 
were  there  several  Russian  pilgrims  came  in.  The  princi- 
pal part  of  their  devotion  seems  to  consist  in  making  the 
sign  of  the  cross  and  kissing  the  ground  or  any  object 
which  happens  to  strike  their  fancy.  They  make  the 
sign  of  the  cross  from  right  to  left.  Shaggy  these  men 
and  women  look,  with  their  heavy  top  boots  and  coarse 
clothing.  They  are  harmless  in  their  simplicity  and 
full  of  happiness  in  being  privileged  to  see  the  holy  places. 
The  paternal  Russian  government  pays  most  of  the 
expenses  of  their  journey,  well  knowing  that  they  are 
but  forerunners  of  the  hundred  thousands,  that  will  rise 
to  wrest  Palestine  from  the  hands  of  the  Turks.  No 
doubt  these  Russian  peasants  return  to  their  native 
provinces  as  missionaries  for  a  holy  war  of  conquest 
against  the  Turk. 

The  garden  of  Gethsemane  is  only  some  hundred 
yards  from  this  grotto,  nearer  to  the  torrent  of  Kidron. 
The  little  postern  gate,  which  we  had  found  locked  on 
Holy  Thursday  night,  was  now  opened  as  we  knocked. 
A  gravel  walk  leads  around  along  the  quadrangular  walls 
and  the  centre  of  the  garden  is  enclosed  by  a  picket  fence. 
Stations  of  the  cross  are  placed  in  niches  of  the  outer  wall 
and  inside  the  picket  fence  some  flowerbeds  filled  out 
the  space  between  the  knarled  olive  trees.  The  olive 
trees  look  old  enough  to  have  been  standing  at  the  time 
of  Christ,  though  this  is  not  ascertainable.  A  Franciscan 
brother  lives  in  a  cell  near  the  hothouse.  He  entertained 
us  with  a  glass  of  wine  and  gave  us  some  flowers  for 
preservation. 

100 


ON  MT.  OLIVET. 


From  the  garden  we  wound  our  way  up  the  rain-worn 
path  to  the  top  of  Mount  Olivet.  It  is  the  highest  moun- 
tain around  Jerusalem  and  the  summit  is  an  almost  oval 
plateau  a  half  mile  long.  The  Russians  own  pretty  well 
the  whole  summit  of  Olivet,  with  the  exception  of  a 
cluster  of  ruinous  Arab  houses  on  the  slope  towards 
Jerusalem.  On  the  western  end  extensive  walls  enclose 
a  large  garden  and  convent  of  Russians,  and  on  the 
eastern  end  stands  the  church  of  the  Ascension,  flanked 
by  a  bell  tower,  which  is  very  likely  intended  to  serve  as 
a  Russian  observation  tower  in  time  of  war.  In  the 
church,  Russian  popes  are  chanting  some  kind  of  service 
with  their  customary  frequent  use  of  incense.  The 
church  is  octagonal  in  form  and  most  beautifully  frescoed. 
In  spite  of  the  high  wind  that  was  blowing,  I  desired  to 
climb  the  tower,  which  is  about  30  feet  square  all  the 
way  up  and  nearly  200  feet  high.  Ostensibly,  it  seems  to 
have  been  built  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  support  a 
chime  of  bells.  But  as  it  stands  on  the  highest  part  of 
the  country,  it  will  serve  as  an  observation  tower  for  the 
whole  region. 

From  its  top  one  has  a  vast  view  of  the  surrounding 
country.  To  the  west  the  Holy  City  lies  spread  out,  the 
bare  spot  of  the  ancient  temple  grounds  contrasting  with 
the  confused  jumble  of  ruinous  houses  of  the  city.  Beyond 
the  further  wall,  the  Russian  settlement  stands  out  prom- 
inently, with  the  great  hospice  and  the  convents  as  a 
centre.  On  clear  days  Ramleh  and  Jaffa,  on  the  edge 
of  the  blue  Mediterranean,  can  be  seen.  To  the  left  and 
behind  the  plains  of  Jericho,  the  dead  sea,  and  farther 
north,  Moab  and  Harmon  gleamed  in  the  sunlight.  To 
the  northeast,  Carmel  and  Libanus  girt  the  plain  of 
Esdrelon.  As  I  descended  the  wind  almost  carried  me 
out  of  the  high  gothic  windows,  which  are  left  entirely 
open.  The  interior  construction  of  the  tower  is  of  iron, 
and  the  outside  shows  uncommon  architectural  beauty. 

101 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

From  the  tower  we  passed  through  the  village  to  the 
place  whence  the  Savior  ascended  into  heaven.  It 
lies  a  little  lower  down  the  hill  and  is  covered  by  an 
octagonal  mosque  inside  of  an  enclosure.  The  Fran- 
ciscans are  allowed  to  hold  services  within  the  enclosure 
once  a  year  on  Ascension  day.  The  mosque  is  small 
and  neglected,  entirely  bare.  The  ragged  keeper  showed 
us  a  stone  in  the  center,  imbedded  in  the  ground,  or  more 
likely  forming  part  of  the  natural  rock.  On  this  stone 
were  the  impressions  of  two  feet,  which  are  said  to  have 
been  left  by  Christ  as  he  ascended  into  heaven.  I  found, 
however,  very  little  resemblance  of  footprints  in  the 
indentures;  perhaps  the  marks  have  become  disfigured 
in  the  course  of  centuries  or  through  the  vandalism  of 
pilgrims.  There  is  nothing  unreasonable  or  improbable 
in  the  assertion,  that  such  marks  have  been  left  by  the 
Savior  and  by  holy  men  on  particular  occasions,  though 
sometimes  superstition  and  the  hope  of  gain  will  give 
rise  to  spurious  fabrication  of  marks  of  the  kind. 

Descending  on  the  road  to  the  left,  we  passed  the 
caves  where  St.  Pelagia  did  penance  for  many  years. 
Further  on  is  the  church  of  the  Pater  Noster  and 
Credo,  with  the  convent  of  the  Carmelite  nuns,  where 
Jesus  wept  over  the  reprobate  city.  The  Temple 
grounds  are  in  full  view  and  the  city  lies  spread  out 
beyond  them.  Beneath  us,  skirting  the  declivities  of 
the  city  walls,  gaped  the  valley  of  Josaphat,  and  merging 
into  the  valley  of  Hinom  to  the  left.  Far  below  on  the 
banks  of  the  Kidron  rose  Absalom's  tomb.  We  de- 
scended to  the  brook  and  clambered  up  through  the 
rugged  cavities  of  the  monument.  It  seems  to  have 
been  cut  out  entirely  from  the  native  rock.  The  lower 
part  is  in  the  shape  of  a  square  kiosk,  surmounted  by  a 
bottle-shaped  top.  It  must  be  fully  sixty  feet  high.  No 
sort  of  care  is  taken  of  it,  and  the  interior  is  full  of 
crumbling  stones.  Aside  of  it  is  the  tomb  of  St.  James, 

102 


R  AMBLINGS. 


also  hewn  out  of  the  rock  in  the  form  of  a  small  Greek 
temple.  Ascending  the  other  side  of  the  Kidron,  we 
came  to  the  city  walls,  where  some  of  the  original  stones 
of  the  temple  of  Solomon  are  still  visible.  Moslem 
graves  cover  nearly  the  whole  declivity  of  the  mountain 
along  the  city  walls.  Among  these  graves  we  stumbled, 
following  the  walls  to  St.  Stephen's  gate.  At  the  hospice 
all  was  bustle  and  excitement  to  prepare  for  the  arrival 
of  522  Austrian  pilgrims  from  the  diocese  of  Linz.  The 
largest  portion  of  these,  with  Bishop  Doppelbauer  at 
their  head,  were  to  lodge  at  our  hospice. 

In  the  afternoon  our  search  for  mail  brought  us  again 
near  the  Jaffa  gate.  Mail  service  in  the  Turkish  domin- 
ions is  something  very  uncertain  and  therefore  the 
Austrian,  the  English,  and  the  German  governments 
maintain  separate  post  offices  in  Jerusalem,  which  insure 
some  kind  of  safety,  (though  not  any  great  expedition) 
to  the  mail  from  foreign  countries.  I  had  to  wait  three 
weeks  after  getting  my  letter  of  instruction,  before  I 
could  obtain  the  payment  of  a  money  order  in  the  Aus- 
trian post  office. 

I  wished  to  visit  Father  Schwarzer,  who  by  this  time 
must  have  returned  from  Haipha.  In  order  to  reach 
St.  Peter's  institute  for  boys,  of  which  he  was  in  charge, 
we  crossed  the  Mohammedan  graveyards  around  the 
birket  Mamilla,  or  tank  of  Solomon.  This  is  an  immense 
square  reservoir,  hewn  thirty  feet  into  the  solid  rock. 
It  is  now  dried  out.  In  this  neighborhood  the  angel  of 
God  struck  down  185,000  of  Sennacherib's  besieging 
army.  Beyond,  on  a  gently  sloping  hill,  lies  St.  Peter's 
Institute.  The  father  was  glad  to  see  me  and  returned 
to  me  the  articles  and  the  money  which  I  had  given  in 
his  keeping  at  Haipha.  The  classes  and  workshops  of 
the  boys  were  closed,  it  being  a  holiday ;  but  we  saw  the 
interior  of  the  extensive  buildings  and  admired  the 
beauty  of  the  chapel.  This  is  one  of  the  several  grand 
103 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

institutions,  which  Ratisbonne  founded  after  his  mir- 
aculous conversion  in  Rome. 

Diverting  on  our  return  toward  the  Damascus  gate, 
we  came  upon  the  grand  basilica  of  the  Dominicans. 
It  is  reared  on  the  foundations  of  an  ancient  church  in 
honor  of  St.  Stephen.  Twenty  feet  of  rubbish  had  to  be 
cleared  away  in  order  to  bring  to  the  light  of  day  the 
curious  mosaics  of  the  original  floor.  Parts  of  these  are 
incorporated  with  the  fine  mosaics  of  the  present  pave- 
ment. In  the  middle  of  the  basilica  a  crypt  is  restored, 
which  probably  once  contained  the  relics  of  St.  Stephen. 
A  number  of  the  doric  pillars  rest  upon  the  original 
pedestals.  This  church  is  no  doubt  the  finest  and  the 
most  costly  in  Jerusalem. 

Not  far  from  this  church  are  the  remarkable  exca- 
vations called  the  tombs  of  the  kings.  They  are  a  reg- 
ular city  of  the  dead,  carved  thirty  feet  deep  out  of  the 
solid  rocks.  A  wide  stairs  led  down  to  two  different 
divisions.  The  first  one  is  filled  about  half  with  water, 
the  other  compartment  is  honeycombed  on  one  of  its 
four  sides  with  small  cells,  which  formerly  contained 
the  sarcophagi  of  the  kings.  In  some  of  them  the 
sarcophagi  are  still  standing,  rifled  however,  of  their 
contents.  Thus  the  ashes  of  the  kings,  that  tried  to 
hide  themselves  away  after  death,  have  been  scattered 
to  the  winds,  while  thousands  of  their  more  humble 
subjects  are  still  resting  in  their  graves  undisturbed. 
Returning  through  the  dusk,  we  were  curious  to  know 
more  of  a  fine  church  and  parsonage,  which  we  had 
noticed  on  the  way  out.  Many  well  dressed  Europeans 
had  just  come  out  of  the  building.  We  found  out  from 
the  attendant,  that  it  was  the  Protestant  Episcopal  church, 
and  presided  over  by  Bishop  Cheney.  He  had  just  given 
confirmation  to  a  number  of  young  people.  The  interior 
was  finely  decorated,  but  there  was  nothing  in  it  which 
could  be  venerated  as  sacred,  as  in  Catholic  churches. 

104 


AUSTRIAN  PILGRIMS. 


The  vast  grotto  of  Jeremias  is  some  hundreds  of  yards 
eastward  of  the  Damascus  gate.  The  Moslem  in  charge 
showed  us  the  stone  ledge,  which  Jeremias  used  at  a 
couch.  The  large  cavern  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  at  even 
ground  with  the  entrance,  is  connected  by  a  passage  to 
the  left  with  another  cave  underground,  in  which  Jere- 
mias was  imprisoned.  It  is  now  filled  with  water:  a 
stone  thrown  into  it  resounded  with  a  hollow  splash, 
which  gloomily  reverberated  through  the  subterranean 
darkness. 

When  we  came  to  the  hospice  the  Austrian  pilgrims 
had  arrived.  During  their  stay  we  were  placed  at  the 
table  opposite  to  the  bishop,  who  is  a  very  affable  man. 
The  Rev.  Rector  Czarski  had  assigned  us  a  room  next 
to  his  own,  and  we  were  scarcely  inconvenienced  by  the 
great  crowds  that  now  filled  every  available  space  of  the 
building.  For  the  following  morning  we  had  made 
arrangements  for  our  trip  to  Jericho  and  the  Dead  Sea. 


105 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SURROUNDED  BY  LEPERS  —  A  HOWLING  WILDERNESS  — 
To  THE  DEAD  SEA  —  A  PLUNGE  IN  THE  JORDAN  — 
IN  THE  CLEFTS  OF  QUARANTANIA  —  GREEK  HOS- 
PITALITY —  ROBBERS'  INN  AND  BETHANY  —  WITH 
THE  AUSTRIAN  PILGRIMS  —  IN  THE  CENACLE  — 
UNSADDLED. 

A  burly  Arab  driver  by  the  name  of  Mahomet  had 
charge  of  the  carriage  in  which  we  made  our  trip  to 
Jericho.  Noisily  the  wheels  rattled  over  the  cobbles  to 
St.  Stephen's  gate.  A  bevy  of  lepers  were  sitting  and 
lying  in  the  bright  sunshine  along  the  road  as  we  moved 
down  the  hill  to  the  Kidron  bridge.  We  threw  some  of 
them  a  few  metaliques.  No  sooner  had  those  farther 
behind  and  ahead  seen  this,  than  a  howl  rose  from  their 
midst.  Those  that  were  able  to  move  surrounded  the 
carriage,  stretching  out  their  leprous  hands,  and  some 
of  them  even  grasping  hold  of  our  garments  in  order  to 
obtain  an  equal  share  of  the  alms.  Mahomet  uncere- 
moniously threatened  them  with  his  whip  before  he 
could  drive  through  their  midst  and  escape.  The 
macadam  road,  built  in  honor  of  the  German  Emperor's 
visit  to  Jericho,  leads  around  the  south  side  of  Mount 
Olivet  to  the  ruins  of  Bethany,  down  the  deep  ravine 
to  the  Apostles'  fountain,  and  some  six  miles  farther  to 
the  government  khan  of  the  good  Samaritan.  It  will  be 
more  convenient  to  speak  of  them  later  on. 

All  this  country  from  Bethany  to  the  plains  of  Jericho 

is  a  howling  wilderness.     No  spring  or  any  kind  of 

stream  is  found  from  the  Apostles'  well  to  the  Nahr-el- 

Kelt,  about  three  miles  beyond  the  khan  of  the  good 

107 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

Samaritan.  The  Nahr-el-Kelt  is  a  ravine,  eaten  through 
the  rocks  by  a  small  stream  which  takes  its  rise  near  the 
road.  It  is  the  most  rugged  ravine  I  had  yet  seen,  sur- 
passing even  the  wild  gulches  of  the  Wasatch  mountains 
in  Utah.  Sheerly  down  through  the  broken  granite 
rocks  the  slender  stream  leaps  from  ledge  to  ledge,  having 
formed  for  itself  a  mere  cleft  through  the  mountains  to 
the  plains  of  Jericho.  About  a  mile  from  where  we 
stood,  a  monastery  is  built  on  the  ledges  of  the  ravine, 
three  or  four  hundred  feet  above  the  bottom.  The 
buildings  were  mere  stone  huts,  leaning  against  the  cliffs, 
and  they  seemed  altogether  inaccessible.  They  are 
tenanted  by  Russian  monks. 

A  mile  farther  on  brought  us  to  the  edge  of  the 
mountains.  The  road  here  makes  a  steep  and  dan- 
gerous descent  to  the  plains  of  Jericho.  In  the  ruined 
village  of  Jericho,  there  are  three  lodging-houses,  all 
bitter  rivals.  Mahomet  seemed  to  stand  in  with  the 
young  man  who  runs  the  Gilgal  hotel,  and  we  did  not 
object  to  his  bringing  us  there  for  our  dinner  and  lodging. 
The  slopes  running  up  from  the  Dead  sea  and  the  Jordan 
are  entirely  barren,  except  where  the  ground  is  irrigated 
by  the  fountain  of  Elisha. 

In  the  afternoon  Mahomet  drove  helter  skelter  over 
these  plains  to  the  Dead  sea,  raising  clouds  of  dust. 
The  nearer  we  came  to  the  sea,  the  more  arid  and  dusty 
grew  the  roads  and  the  country  around.  The  Dead  sea 
looks  like  any  other  lake  from  afar.  The  waters  are 
grayish  blue,  and  perfectly  clear.  On  the  farther  side 
the  mountains  of  Moab  rise  like  a  wall  of  bare  rocks, 
while  to  the  south  only  a  blue  ridge  is  dimly  visible  above 
the  glittering  waters.  Being  alone  we  took  a  bath.  The 
water  is  so  heavy  that  it  is  impossible  to  sink.  Lying 
flat,  half  the  body  is  always  out  of  the  water.  But  if  the 
feet  are  raised,  the  head  immediately  sinks  beneath  the 
surface  and  the  brine  will  enter  the  nose  and  mouth. 

108 


THE  JORDAN. 

The  skin  is  coated  with  salt  in  a  short  time ;  this  causes  a 
disagreeable  sensation,  unless  it  is  washed  off  with  fresh 
water.  Just  as  we  had  partly  dressed,  another  carriage 
came  up  with  a  Greek  papa  and  a  woman.  Without 
much  ado  the  papa  undressed,  leaving  the  woman  in  the 
carriage  within  a  few  steps  of  the  shore.  He  made  great 
ado  in  the  shallow  water  before  he  plunged  in  to  swim. 

About  three  miles  in  a  northeasterly  direction  is  the 
place  where  the  Israelites  crossed  the  Jordan.  Only 
scattered  sage  brushes  are  met  with  along  the  road  before 
reaching  the  Jordan.  There  a  species  of  tamarack  and 
poplar  forms  thick  bushes  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  The 
river  banks  are  very  muddy.  I  sank  into  the  mud  to  my 
knees,  while  bathing.  The  river  is  about  forty  yards 
wide,  very  deep,  muddy,  and  swift  running.  Very  often 
careless  bathers  meet  their  death  in  this  place.  Again 
the  Greek  papa  came  up  with  the  lady,  and  stripped  to 
take  a  plunge.  Afterwards  we  hired  a  boatman  to  take 
us  a  little  distance  up  the  river.  I  was  sorry  not  to  be 
able  to  extend  this  boatride  up  to  Lake  Genesareth,  and 
hoped  I  could  do  so  on  a  future  occasion.  The  short 
distance  was  exceedingly  romantic.  What  a  wall  of 
water  must  have  gathered  to  the  north  of  this  place, 
when  the  Jordan  stood  still,  until  the  vast  host  of  the 
Israelites  had  crossed,  and  how  the  waters  must  have 
rushed  down  again  into  the  dry  bed,  when  this  was 
accomplished! 

Driving  home  as  the  sun  sank  over  the  western  hills, 
we  met  some  shepherds  and  some  reapers.  The  latter 
carried  huge  sheaves  of  grain  home  on  their  backs,  re- 
minding us  of  the  words  of  the  psalmist:  "Venientes 
autem  venient  cum  exultatione,  portantes  manipulas 
suos."  We  forded  the  Nahr-el-Kelt,  which  we  had  ad- 
mired in  the  morning  among  the  hills.  In  this  neigh- 
borhood the  Israelites  encamped  after  crossing  the 
Jordan,  but  nothing  remains  of  Gilgal,  and  the  memorial 
109 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

of  twelve  stones,  which  they  set  up.  A  large  Russian 
convent,  that  of  St.  John,  lies  to  the  left  at  a  few  miles 
distance.  Robbers  infest  these  plains,  for  a  young  Ger- 
man, who  stopped  at  our  hotel,  told  me  that  he  had  two 
horses  stolen  from  him  on  the  plains  of  Jericho  by 
marauding  Arabs.  Arriving  at  the  hotel,  we  were  sur- 
prised to  see  the  Greek  papa  with  his  fair  young  lady 
sitting  at  table  with  us.  Next  morning  before  sunrise 
we  drummed  up  the  unwilling  Mahomet  to  take  us  to 
Elisha's  or  Sultan's  fountain,  not  far  from  Quarantine 
Mount.  Its  water  runs  close  by  Jericho  and  causes  a 
streak  of  rich  vegetation  to  spring  up  along  its  course. 
Flowering  rhododendron  lined  the  road  in  some  places, 
and  reminded  us  of  balmy  spring  mornings  of  other 
countries.  The  abundant  stream  of  pure  water  collects 
in  a  reservoir,  from  which  it  is  branched  off  in  different 
conduits  to  water  the  fields  on  the  slopes.  Ever  since 
Eliseus  changed  its  unwholesome  water  three  thousand 
years  ago,  it  has  poured  out  refreshing  streams  over 
the  arid  plains  of  Jericho.  The  first  rays  of  the  sun 
rising  over  Moab,  tinged  the  summit  of  Quarantania 
and  the  Greek  convent  leaning  against  the  red  rocks 
about  midway  up  the  declivities.  The  summit  of  this, 
the  highest  and  most  rugged  of  the  Judean  mountains, 
is  now  crowned  by  an  irregular  wall,  enclosing  the  spot 
of  the  third  temptation  of  Christ.  In  spite  of  the  unwil- 
lingness of  Mahomet  to  wait,  we  began  our  ascent.  A 
stream  traverses  the  foothills  in  the  foreground,  and  in 
some  valleys  herds  were  grazing,  and  a  few  field  laborers 
were  already  at  work.  Ruins  of  ancient  Jericho  are  yet 
traceable  on  some  of  the  foothills.  At  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  stands  a  house  surrounded  by  gardens.  It 
belongs  to  the  monastery  on  the  mount,  and  furnishes 
vegetables  for  the  community.  From  here  a  very  steep, 
zigzag  trail  leads  up  to  the  monastery,  which  seems  liter- 
ally suspended  from  the  ledges  of  the  rocks. 

no 


QUARANTANIA. 

Panting  from  the  exertion  of  the  steep  climb,  we 
arrived  at  the  rude  door  or  gate  and  were  admitted  by 
the  porter,  who  is  on  the  watch  for  visitors.  He  treated 
us  with  arrack  and  a  delicious  cup  of  mocha.  The  nar- 
row cells  of  the  monks  are  mere  cave  abutments  hewn 
into  rocky  walls  of  the  mountain.  A  guide  led  us  through 
narrow  passages  to  the  cave  in  which  Jesus  is  said  to 
have  fasted  for  forty  days.  Beneath  this  cave  is  a  larger 
one  in  which  Elias  lived  for  a  while.  It  is  almost  inac- 
cessible except  by  ladders  or  ropes.  The  long-haired 
Greek  produced  a  ponderous  key  to  open  a  gate,  which 
gives  access  to  the  continuation  of  the  path  up  to  the 
summit.  This  has  been  enclosed  recently  by  a  stone  wall ; 
but  there  is  nothing  to  mark  the  spot  of  the  third  temp- 
tation except  a  rude  shed,  and  near  it  a  large  cross.  The 
plains  of  Jericho  and  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  lay  now 
in  full  view  beneath.  Where  the  Jordan  wound  its  way 
through  the  valley  there  is  a  streak  of  beautiful  green, 
contrasting  with  the  arid  waste  of  the  plain.  The  sun 
had  risen  high  toward  the  zenith,  and  shot  down  burning 
rays  as  we  climbed  down  again  to  reach  the  carriage. 
We  wanted  to  return  to  Jerusalem  that  day.  Ma- 
homet at  first  strenuously  refused.  The  horses  would 
not  stand  the  exertion,  he  said.  I  suspect  he  merely 
wanted  to  play  into  the  hands  of  the  hotel-keeper  by 
lengthening  our  stay.  We  had  already  resigned  our- 
selves and  were  about  to  lie  down  for  a  siesta,  when  our 
offer  of  an  extra  bakshish  had  done  its  work.  He  now 
urged  us  to  return  to  Jerusalem.  His  previous  objec- 
tions, however,  were  not  all  unfounded,  for  the  mid-day 
heat,  reflected  from  the  rocks,  almost  overcame  man 
and  beast,  as  we  climbed  afoot  up  the  first  ascent  to  the 
Judean  mountains.  Mahomet  made  a  stop  of  over  an 
hour  at  the  khan  of  the  good  Samaritan.  This  is  an 
enclosure  of  about  an  acre  for  beasts  of  burden,  with  a 
rude  shack  for  the  accommodation  of  travelers.  It  is 

in 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

maintained  by  the  government,  but  the  only  refresh- 
ment to  be  had  in  these  khans  is  a  cup  of  coffee.  The 
country  ten  miles  around  is  a  howling  wilderness  of 
rocky  mountains,  an  ideal  place  for  such  an  incident  as 
is  related  in  the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan.  On 
the  hill  behind  the  khan  the  ruins  of  an  old  fort  can  be 
seen. 

We  did  not  stop  at  the  Apostles'  inn,  which  is  merely 
a  small  house  inhabited  by  some  enterprising  native 
near  a  brackish  fountain  not  far  from  Bethany.  In 
this  neighborhood  the  apostles  are  said  to  have  often 
met  after  the  Ascension  of  Christ.  Bethany  is  scarcely 
two  miles  farther  along  the  road,  pretty  well  up  on  the 
east  side  of  Mount  Olivet.  A  ragged  Arab  is  always  on 
the  lookout  for  strangers,  to  show  them  the  tomb  of  Laz- 
arus and  the  ruins  of  Lazarus'  and  Simon's  house.  He 
gave  us  some  dirty  candle  stumps  and  preceded  us  down 
the  series  of  caves,  which  form  the  tomb.  Not  the  least 
sign  of  care  or  veneration  is  to  be  seen.  Heaps  of  dirt 
and  rubbish  cover  the  stairs  and  the  bottom  of  the  caves. 
The  tomb  itself,  from  which  Lazarus  was  called  forth, 
is  full  of  filth.  We  left  disgusted,  to  have  a  look  at  the 
site  of  the  two  houses  mentioned  above.  They  are  now 
covered  with  the  ruins  of  chapels,  probably  built  by  the 
crusaders.  Having  reached  St.  Stephen's  gate,  Ma- 
homet rattled  in  great  style  over  the  broken  pavement 
to  the  hospice.  When  we  alighted  I  found  that  I  had 
lost  my  notebook  on  the  way.  Though  I  made  every 
effort  to  recover  it,  I  never  saw  it  any  more.  However, 
as  its  contents  covered  only  a  short  period  of  my  journey, 
I  replaced  it  pretty  well  with  a  synopsis  from  memory. 

We  were  just  in  time  to  accompany  the  Austrian  pil- 
grims on  their  visit  to  Mount  Sion.  Our  first  stop  was 
made  at  the  large  Armenian  convents  and  gardens,  only 
a  short  distance  beyond  the  tower  of  David.  The 
fumes  of  incense  filled  the  large  church  of  St.  James, 

112 


WITH  THE  AUSTRIANS. 


which  is  built  on  the  spot  where  he  was  decapitated.  It 
is  profusely  decorated  with  tiles  of  different  colors,  and 
the  altars  and  cornices  are  richly  gilded.  But  there  is 
not  much  taste  either  in  the  coloring  nor  the  decoration 
of  any  church  in  the  hands  of  the  Oriental  Christians. 
Real  art  after  all  seems  to  flourish  only  where  the  Cath- 
olic church  has  laid  its  foundations,  and  where  European 
influence  has  been  brought  to  bear.  After  crossing 
several  paved  courts  and  lanes,  we  were  shown  the  house 
of  Annas,  or  rather  the  church  erected  upon  its  site. 
Here  also  the  Armenian  monks  were  just  finishing  their 
services.  To  the  right  of  the  altar  they  showed  a  bare 
niche  in  the  wall  in  which  they  claimed  Jesus  was  im- 
prisoned during  the  night  of  his  trial.  Leaving  these 
places,  one  of  the  Austrian  priests  reproached  some  of 
the  laymen  for  venerating  and  kissing  the  places  shown 
them  by  the  Armenian  monks.  I  loudly  protested 
against  his  overscrupulousness,  maintaining  that  it  is 
not  so  much  a  question  of  the  authenticity  of  the  place, 
as  of  the  sacred  memory  connected  with  it. 

We  left  the  Armenian  enclosures,  which  seem  to  be 
the  most  extensive  of  all  those  owned  by  the  different 
divisions  of  Christians,  and  proceeded  through  the 
gate  of  Sion  to  the  Coenaculum.  We  were  cautioned  by 
the  guides  not  to  perform  any  exterior  acts  of  devotion, 
as  the  Moslems  would  make  trouble  if  we  did.  The 
pilgrims  were  not  even  to  go  up  into  the  little  room 
where  on  a  former  occasion  I  had  seen  the  bogus  tomb 
of  David.  Thus  the  barbaric  Turk  lords  it  over  the 
Christians ! 

Early  in  the  morning  after  Mass  we  mounted  a  pair  of 
asses  to  ride  in  the  fresh  morning  air  to  Bethany.  I 
had  some  hopes  of  finding  my  notebook  in  the  cave  of 
Lazarus.  Our  search  there  was  in  vain,  but  the  old 
Moslem  guide  told  me  that  about  a  hundred  French  pil- 
grims had  visited  the  cave  yesterday  after  we  had  been 

"3 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

there.  I  fondly  hoped  that  I  might  receive  it  from  one 
of  them  later  on.  But  in  order  not  to  leave  any  stone  un- 
turned for  its  recovery,  I  decided  to  go  as  far  as  the  khan 
of  the  good  Samaritan.  So  I  pursued  my  way  to  that 
place  alone,  and  might  have  fared  just  as  bad  as  the 
wounded  man  in  the  parable  on  this  lonely  way,  if  the 
robbers  had  only  performed  their  part  of  the  business. 
Some  way  or  other,  however,  we  missed  connections. 
No  trace  of  the  robbers  nor  of  the  notebook. 

It  seems  my  mule  wanted  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of 
incident  by  an  extra  display  of  mulishness.  On  the 
way  back  he  began  to  fall  into  a  snail's  pace.  Neither 
the  urgings  of  an  impatient  tongue,  nor  the  spurring  of 
the  heel,  or  the  swishing  of  the  whip  would  he  mind. 
He  insisted  on  taking  the  outermost  edge  of  the  road, 
threatening  to  throw  me  over  the  precipice,  or,  when 
jerked  away,  he  scraped  my  knee  against  the  sharp  pro- 
jections of  the  overhanging  rocks  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road.  Then  again  he  would  suddenly  duck  his  head  and 
rub  his  nose  against  the  dusty  roadway,  almost  throwing 
me  over  his  shoulder.  Finally  he  reached  the  climax  by 
flopping  down  with  rider  and  all  on  the  dusty  road-bed 
and  refusing  to  get  up  in  spite  of  whip  and  spur.  For 
some  time  I  stood  at  his  side  in  the  mid-day  heat  per- 
fectly at  a  loss.  The  recumbent  beast  kept  wagging 
his  ears  in  the  most  nonchalant  manner.  But  there  is 
nothing  like  a  bluff,  especially  in  Turkey,  and  as  an 
American  I  thought  I  would  try  it  on  a  mule.  Going 
back  about  twenty  paces  I  spread  out  my  haik  and 
shouting  an  Indian  warwhoop,  I  rushed  upon  him  with 
a  running  jump.  Before  I  landed  on  his  haunches,  he 
had  jumped  up  as  if  struck  by  lightning,  and,  facing 
around,  stared  at  me  with  wagging  ears.  The  bluff 
had  worked  like  a  charm. 

Doggedly  he  moved  on  until  we  reached  a  turn  in  the 
road.  A  small  distance  ahead  I  saw  a  dilapidated 

114 


MULISHNESS. 


brother  of  his  lying  right  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  My 
mule  must  have  been  so  busy  scheming  new  rebellion 
that  he  did  not  see  his  brother  ass  until  he  was  only  a 
step  from  him.  The  other  made  a  feeble  effort  to  rise. 
Like  a  blast  of  gunpowder,  mine  made  a  jump  into  the 
air,  and  I,  taken  unawares,  flew  into  space  and  landed 
helter-skelter  on  the  dusty  road.  He  himself  stood  about 
five  paces  away,  cocking  his  ears  at  his  crippled  brother. 
I  must  have  been  quite  a  ludicrous  sight  in  the  black  haik, 
streaked  with  the  chalky  dust  of  the  road.  My  long- 
eared  companion  seemed  to  feel  himself  sufficiently 
revenged  in  bringing  me  to  the  dust,  and  without  further 
violence  finally  brought  me  home. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  PILGRIMS'  SONG —  ST.  PETER'S  MEMORY  AMONG 
PROTESTANTS  —  Am    KAREM    AND    SURROUNDINGS 

—  GOLGOTHA  AND   ENVIRONS  —  ITS   COMPLEX   OF 
CHURCHES  —  THE  ROTUNDA  OVER  THE  SEPULCHRE 

—  CATHOLIC    AND    GREEK    CHURCH    NEAR    IT  — 
SUBTERRANEAN  CHAPELS  —  CHAPEL  OF  THE  CRU- 
CIFIXION AND  OF  THE  DEATH  OF   CHRIST. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  solemn  song  of  the  Austrian 
pilgrims  making  the  Via  Dolorosa  that  evening.  I 
was  sitting  at  the  open  window  and  their  song  echoed 
along  the  street  outside,  suggesting  oceans  of  sorrow. 
It  brought  vividly  to  my  mind  the  song  of  the  pilgrims 
in  the  opera  of  "Die  Meistersaenger."  I  wondered  at 
the  similarity  of  the  impressions  caused  by  the  fiction 
in  the  past  and  the  reality  in  the  present. 

The  only  sacred  place  which  the  English-speaking 
Protestants  seem  to  possess  in  Jerusalem  is  the  prison 
where  St.  Peter  was  detained  by  Herod.  It  belongs  to 
the  English  mission  in  the  Jewish  quarter  of  Jerusalem. 
Under  one  of  the  buildings,  which  they  use  as  a  printing 
establishment,  is  a  cellar  or  vault  where  the  staples  are 
still  shown  to  which  the  chains  of  St.  Peter,  now  in  Rome, 
were  fastened.  This,  according  to  Catholic  notions, 
would  be  a  place  well  worth  keeping  in  sacred  memory. 
I  expected  to  see  some  signs  of  veneration  in  it,  but  was 
sadly  disappointed.  In  the  time  of  the  crusaders  there 
was  a  chapel  built  over  it.  In  the  hands  of  the  Pro- 
testants it  is  turned  into  a  cellar  for  vegetables.  The 
irons,  which  once  held  St.  Peter,  are  now  covered  with 
the  remains  of  decaying  vegetables,  and  the  other  parts 
117 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

of  the  prison  adjoining  are  used  for  a  wood-shed.  A 
Moslem  is  too  lazy  to  keep  sacred  places  free  from  dirt, 
and  his  religion  does  not  allow  him  any  profuse  decora- 
tions, but  he  will  never  permit  such  a  place  to  be  put  to 
profane  use,  and. he  will  make  you  take  off  your  shoes 
before  entering.  No  such  regard  is  paid  by  the  English 
Protestant.  St.  Peter  was  no  war  hero  or  great  states- 
man of  theirs.  In  Cawnpore,  they  have  built  a  grand 
monument  over  the  well  in  which  some  of  the  victims 
of  their  war  of  conquest  were  thrown.  They  made  us 
talk  in  a  whisper  in  the  park  surrounding  it.  Thousands 
of  places  are  adorned  with  monuments  and  memorial 
churches,  and  consume  millions  yearly  in  their  preser- 
vation. Here  in  Jerusalem  the  English  Protestants 
happen  to  be  in  possession  of  just  one  place  of  sacred 
memory,  and  this  they  leave  in  a  most  shameful  condi- 
tion of  neglect.  I  say  this  in  no  bitterness,  but  only  in 
order  to  give  vent  to  my  feeling  of  regret  that  Saint 
Peter's  memory  should  be  thus  loaded  with  insult.  Do 
Protestants  owe  nothing  to  Saint  Peter,  the  head  of  the 
apostles  ? 

In  the  morning  of  the  last  Sunday  of  our  stay  in 
Jerusalem,  Mahomet,  our  favorite  driver,  stood  ready 
with  his  carriage  in  order  to  take  us  out  to  Ain  Karem, 
the  birthplace  of  St.  John  and  the  scene  of  the  visitation 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  Lustily  he  rattled  on  to  the  gate 
of  Damascus,  scattering  the  laggard  foot-passengers  to 
right  and  left.  A  few  miles  out  the  scenery  becomes 
quite  pleasing,  especially  toward  the  valley  that  runs  in 
the  direction  of  Bethlehem.  The  road  winds  down  the 
hillside,  supported  by  a  high  embankment,  and  Ain 
Karem  presented  a  very  cheerful  sight,  with  its  neat 
houses,  its  eight  or  ten  churches,  some  of  them  over- 
topped by  high  steeples.  On  the  spot  where  Mary  first 
met  Elizabeth  on  her  visit,  the  Franciscans  are  in  charge 
of  a  fine  church  and  monastery.  High  mass  was  going 

118 


AIN  KAREM. 


on  when  we  entered.  At  the  end  a  procession  with 
the  blessed  Sacrament  was  held,  in  which  the  natives 
joined,  singing  the  Te  Deum  in  Arabic.  To  the  left  of 
the  high  altar  is  the  crypt  and  sanctuary,  the  meeting 
place  of  the  Mother  of  God  with  her  cousin  Elizabeth. 
Here  for  the  first  time  resounded  the  sublimest  of  all 
anthems,  the  Magnificat,  and  from  that  blessed  tongue, 
which  also  first  made  our  Salvation  secure  by  accepting 
the  proposals  of  the  heavenly  father. 

Farther  down  in  the  valley  the  road  passes  a  pictur- 
esque fountain  that  sends  forth  an  abundant  stream. 
Beyond,  on  the  opposite  hill,  a  new  chapel  and  convent 
is  built  upon  the  excavated  walls  of  older  structures, 
marking  the  birthplace  of  St.  John.  Next  to  the  altar 
in  the  chapel  is  the  well  of  St.  Elizabeth,  of  miraculous 
origin,  and,  in  an  opening  in  the  wall  to  the  right,  a  small 
cave  is  shown  as  the  hiding  place  of  St.  John  and  his 
mother  during  the  slaughter  of  the  innocents  by  Herod. 
The  cliffs  overhanging  the  convent  are  honeycombed  by 
old  burying  places.  Some  of  them,  now  sealed  up  again, 
contain  the  remains  of  recently  deceased  Franciscans. 
Ain  Karem  itself  does  not  make  the  woebegone  im- 
pression which  many  of  the  other  places  of  Palestine 
invariably  make  upon  the  visitor.  Most  of  the  inhab- 
itants are  Christians,  as  in  Bethlehem  and  Nazareth. 
Our  visit  to  this  place  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  in 
Palestine. 

The  most  remarkable  place  in  Jerusalem  and,  for 
that  matter,  in  the  whole  world,  will  always  remain  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  Of  course  we  visited  this  place  often 
during  our  stay  of  a  month,  but  we  spent  one  day  in  mak- 
ing a  thorough  inspection  of  the  extensive  buildings 
connected  with  it.  The  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
is  on  the  hill  to  the  north  of  Mount  Sion.  At  the  time 
of  Christ  this  hill  was  outside  the  then  existing  walls  of 
the  city.  In  later  times  the  present  walls  were  built  in 
119 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

a  wide  sweep  around  the  hill  of  Golgotha,  thus  mak- 
ing it  part  of  the  city.  The  new  addition  to  the  city 
was  densely  populated  and  the  present  church,  though 
built  on  a  hill,  is  almost  hidden  in  a  cluster  of  the 
other  high  buildings.  It  is  well  known  that  the  church 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  is  really  a  group  of  churches 
and  chapels,  which  form  one  whole,  covering  both  the 
burial  place  of  our  Lord  and  the  hill  on  which  he  was 
crucified.  That  is  easily  possible,  since  they  are  only 
about  a  hundred  feet  apart.  Golgotha  was  only  a  small 
hillock,  and  may  be  called  a  part  of  Mt.  Sion.  At  its  foot 
and  into  the  rocky  sides  of  the  hill  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
had  built  a  sepulchre  for  himself,  into  which  he  helped  to 
place  the  Savior  with  his  own  hand.  St.  Helena,  the 
mother  of  the  Emperor  Constantine,  before  she  built 
the  church  over  the  grave,  leveled  the  rocks  around  it, 
cutting  away  also  a  large  portion  of  the  rock  of  Golgotha. 
Thus  a  level  space  of  about  seventy  feet  in  diameter 
was  created,  on  which  the  great  rotunda  of  the  church 
now  stands.  She  even  went  so  far  as  to  cut  away  the 
vestibule  of  the  original  tomb,  leaving  only  a  sort  of 
shell,  which  to  this  day  vaults  over  the  resting  place  of 
Jesus.  The  whole  of  this  is  covered  by  a  marble  struc- 
ture about  fifteen  feet  long  and  ten  wide,  surmounted 
by  a  Byzantine  cupola.  The  whole  monument  is  prob- 
ably not  over  twenty  feet  high.  In  the  front,  a  small 
door  opens  into  a  sort  of  vestibule,  which  is  called  the 
Chapel  of  the  Angel;  for  here  the  angel  sat  upon  a 
stone  when  the  pious  women  paid  their  visit  to  the  grave. 
In  the  rear  of  this  vestibule  there  is  a  hole  in  the  monu- 
ment so  narrow  that  only  an  ordinary  sized  person  could 
squeeze  through,  and  so  low  that  only  a  child  of  ten 
years  could  enter  in  upright  position.  This  aperture 
gives  admission  to  the  real  tomb  of  our  Lord.  However, 
nothing  of  it  can  be  seen  except  the  bare  rocks  above, 
all  black  from  the  smoke  of  the  lamps,  and  a  marble  slab 

120 


THE  HOLY  SEPULCHRE. 


about  six  feet  long  and  two  broad,  which  forms  an  altar- 
table  across  the  niche  in  the  wall.  Beneath  this  slab  is 
the  native  rock,  chiseled  out  for  a  resting  place  of  the 
human  body.  There  lay  the  sacred  body  of  Christ  until 
the  third  day.  Above  the  altar-table  are  some  rich 
ornaments,  and  several  lamps  of  precious  metal.  On 
that  marble  slab,  just  above  the  spot  where  the  divine 
Savior  rested  in  death,  I  celebrated  holy  mass  in  Easter 
week,  as  I  have  already  mentioned.  In  the  narrow 
vault,  perhaps  not  more  than  five  or  six  persons  would 
find  room  to  stand.  The  Greeks  have  cut  holes  through 
the  rock  on  top  in  order  to  give  egress  to  the  smoke  of 
the  perpetual  lamps.  They  have  also  cut  an  oval  hole 
into  each  side  of  the  vestibule  or  chapel  of  the  angel  in 
order  to  hand  out  their  sacred  fire  on  Holy  Saturday. 
The  Russian  people  are  made  to  believe  that  the  fire 
descends  direct  from  heaven  on  Easter  night. 

Above  the  sepulchral  monument  the  great  rotunda 
of  the  church  rises  to  a  height  of  over  a  hundred  and 
fifty  feet.  The  pillars  or  ribs  of  the  rotunda  rise  straight 
to  the  curve  and  then  all  unite  in  the  centre  of  the 
cupola.  The  architecture  is  Byzantine  and  the  rotunda 
is  common  ground  for  all  the  different  denominations 
of  Christians;  but  the  hours  during  which  services  may 
be  held  in  the  Sepulchre  are  strictly  regulated.  On 
the  outside,  to  the  rear  part  of  the  monument,  is 
attached  the  altar  of  the  Copts.  The  spaces  between 
the  pillars  and  the  outside  wall  of  the  rotunda  form  a 
circular  row  of  chapels  belonging  to  different  denom- 
inations. One  of  them,  opposite  the  Coptic  altar,  is 
held  as  a  chapel  for  the  Syrians,  and  in  a  recess  of  that 
chapel  is  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  obtain  some  idea  of 
the  location  of  the  other  important  points  of  the  great 
church,  let  him  start  with  me  from  the  Austrian  hospice 
on  a  tour  of  exploration.  Coming  up  from  the  hospice, 

121 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  passing  the  remains  of  the  old  city  gate  built  before 
the  time  of  Christ,  we  happen  upon  one  of  the  most 
lively  bazaar  streets  of  Jerusalem.  It  winds  somewhat 
around  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  Golgotha.  At  the  next 
corner  we  will  turn  to  the  right  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  paces.  We  have  been  going  up  hill  a  little  and 
skirted  Golgotha  on  its  east  and  south  side.  Now  we 
stand  before  a  narrow  entrance  to  a  court  paved  with 
flag-stones,  and  opposite  to  us  is  the  portal  of  a  church. 
Nothing  is  seen  of  this  church  except  the  facade,  like 
a  ruin  among  ruins.  On  each  side  of  us  old  convent 
buildings  hide  the  rest  of  the  church  and  form  the  limits 
of  the  courtyard.  Entering  the  portals  of  the  facade 
we  pass  a  bevy  of  Turkish  soldiers  lying  on  a  rug-covered 
platform  to  our  left. 

Ahead  of  us  we  see  a  jumble  of  pillars;  to  the  right  of 
them  there  seems  to  be  a  chapel  raised  about  twenty-five 
feet  above  our  standing  ground.  This  is  the  summit  of 
Golgotha,  which  has  been  cut  into  a  cubic  form.  We 
walk  straight  ahead  for  ten  steps  and  stand  before  a  large 
stone  slab,  surrounded  by  a  railing.  The  pilgrims 
kneel  down  and  kiss  it,  for  it  is  the  stone  on  which  the 
body  of  Christ  was  anointed  for  burial.  To  our  left, 
ahead  of  us,  between  two  of  the  great  pillars  of  the 
rotunda,  our  eyes  are  caught  by  the  gleam  of  many  lights. 
They  are  the  lights  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Around  the 
Sepulchre  is  a  free  circular  space  over  which  rises  the 
rotunda.  There  are  sixteen  of  the  pillars,  but  they  do 
not  complete  the  circle.  The  whole  width  of  the  rotunda, 
opposite  the  entrance  of  the  Sepulchre,  forms  a  high  and 
sweeping  arch,  opening  into  a  large  church  now  in 
possession  of  the  Russians  or  Greeks.  If  we  pass  on  to 
the  left  around  the  tomb,  that  is,  on  the  side  which  is 
opposite  to  the  Russian  church,  we  pass  between  the 
Coptic  altar  and  the  Syrian  chapel.  Following  the 
circle  around  so  as  to  complete  a  half  circuit,  we  see 

122 


SACRED  SHRINES. 


behind  the  pillars  an  altar  to  the  right.  It  is  the  place 
where  our  Lord  appeared  to  Magdalen  as  she  stood 
weeping. 

But  we  must  look  farther  in  that  direction,  for  there 
is  a  door  a  few  steps  beyond  that  altar,  and  it  seems  to 
open  into  a  chapel.  So  it  does:  as  we  enter  we  see  the 
familiar  decorations  and  arrangements  of  Catholic 
churches.  The  richly  decorated  altar  in  the  middle 
commemorates  the  spot  where  the  risen  Savior  appeared 
to  the  women;  the  one  to  the  right  contains,  behind  a 
screen,  the  column  of  the  flagellation,  the  one  to  the  left 
contains  other  relics.  Adjoining  this  chapel  is  the  dwell- 
ing of  the  Franciscans,  who  attend  to  the  service  and 
are  imprisoned  there  during  the  night. 

Now  we  must  return  again  to  the  rotunda  and  con- 
tinue our  circuit.  Immediately  in  front  of  the  Sepulchre, 
as  already  mentioned,  is  the  entrance  to  the  Russian 
church,  which  is  the  largest  of  the  chapels  and  the  most 
beautifully  decorated  of  the  whole  complex  of  buildings. 
On  the  mosaic  pavement,  in  the  centre,  a  stone,  in  the 
shape  of  a  knob,  projects.  Russian  pilgrims  are  con- 
tinually kneeling  down  beside  it  to  cover  it  with  kisses, 
for  their  papas  tell  them  that  it  is  the  navel  of  the  whole 
world.  In  front  rises  the  magnificent  iconostasis,  hiding 
the  inner  sanctuary.  The  iconostasis  in  Greek  churches 
is  a  partition  to  conceal  the  sanctuary  and  the  priest  dur- 
ing some  parts  of  the  mass.  In  the  middle  of  it  is  an 
arched  door,  through  which,  when  open,  the  altar  is 
seen ;  on  each  side  of  this  door  are  ornaments ;  above  it  is 
generally  the  picture  of  the  Virgin,  and  on  each  side  of 
this  picture  are  the  paintings  of  four  saints.  Running 
along  the  walls,  on  each  side  of  the  main  body  of  this 
church,  are  stalls  or  partitioned  seats  for  the  monks. 
The  walls  and  ceilings  above  them  are  beautifully  fres- 
coed, though  of  course  in  Byzantine  style.  Behind  the 
iconostasis,  precious  metal  and  jeweled  mosaics  glitter 
123 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

in  profusion  on  the  altar  and  on  the  walls.  Behind  the 
altar  is  the  magnificent  throne  of  the  Greek  patriarch. 

We  can  pass  out  of  the  sanctuary  of  the  Greek  or 
Russian  church  through  a  small  door  on  the  left.  We 
are  then  in  the  open  passageway  between  the  church  and 
an  old  convent,  between  which  two  mighty  and  shapeless 
pillars  support  the  roof  above.  In  front  of  us  to  the 
right,  thirty  steps  ahead,  a  dark  recess  in  the  corner  of 
the  wall,  contains  an  altar.  It  is  the  cave  into  which 
Jesus  was  thrown,  while  the  executioners  prepared  the 
cross.  We  come  back  almost  to  the  door  of  the  Greek 
sanctuary  and  enter  a  passage  leading  behind  it.  In 
niches  to  the  left  is  the  altar  of  Longinus  and  of  the 
division  of  the  garments  of  Christ.  Farther  on  we  enter 
an  Underground  passage  to  our  left,  and  in  the  dim 
background  of  the  expanding  cavern,  we  see  the  flicker- 
ing light  of  candles.  They  are  burning  on  the  altars  about 
thirty  feet  away  from  us  in  the  chapel  of  St.  Helena.  On 
descending  about  forty  steps  hewn  down  into  the  rock, 
we  find  it  to  be  a  very  roomy  cave,  but  entirely  bare  and 
neglected  except  for  three  rude  altars.  The  chapel 
belongs  to  the  Armenians.  The  candles  have  probably 
been  placed  there  by  some  devout  pilgrims  of  a  different 
denomination.  But  some  faint  glimmer  of  lighted 
candles  seems  to  come  from  the  rear  right-hand  corner. 
Accordingly  we  descend  through  the  narrow  passage  on 
twenty  more  rough  steps,  and  arrive  in  a  small  cave, 
where  likewise  candles  are  burning  on  a  rude  altar. 
This  is  the  cave  where  the  true  cross  was  found  with  the 
crosses  of  the  two  thieves.  It  belongs  to  the  Latins. 
The  rock  is  left  in  its  natural  condition,  and  is  all  black- 
ened with  smoke. 

On  leaving  these  caves  and  returning  up  the  two  stairs, 
we  land  again  in  the  passage  behind  the  Greek  church 
and  continuing  around  the  rear  of  its  sanctuary  we  pass  a 
niche  to  our  left  containing  the  altar  of  the  Column  of 

124 


CHAPEL  OF  ADAM. 


Mockery.  Only  a  few  steps  farther  a  narrow  stone 
stairs  leads  down  into  some  chambers,  which  have  been 
dug  out  under  the  very  hill  of  Calvary,  and  are  used  by 
the  Greek  monks.  Only  about  thirty  feet  farther  in  the 
passage  (having  walked  completely  around  the  rear  of 
the  sanctuary  of  the  Greek  church)  we  come  to  a  narrow 
stairway,  which  seems  to  lead  up  about  twenty  feet  along 
what  seems  a  wall.  This  wall  is  nothing  else  than  the 
natural  rock  of  Calvary,  the  slope  of  which  has  been  thus 
cut  down  perpendicularly  by  St.  Helena.  Above  the 
edge  of  it  the  pillars  of  a  chapel  rise,  and  we  can  see  the  ' 
decorations  on  the  ceiling  about  thirty  feet  from  our 
floor.  If  we  wish,  we  can  climb  these  stairs  (which 
belong  to  the  Greeks)  and  see  the  chapels  on  Golgotha, 
but  we  prefer  first  to  pass  around  these  stairs  to  the  left, 
and  come  to  a  door  in  the  face  of  the  rocky  wall.  It 
leads  into  the  chapel  of  Adam.  Tradition  says,  that  in 
a  cave  immediately  under  the  cross  of  our  Savior,  the 
bones  of  Adam  were  found.  The  Greeks  have  made  a 
chapel  of  it.  Around  it  are  also  some  other  chambers, 
where  if  you  pry  about,  the  Greek  papas  will  soon  give 
you  to  understand  that  you  are  not  wanted.  Within 
this  chapel  you  stand  almost  beneath  the  exact  spot 
where  Jesus  expired  on  the  cross. 

But  come  out,  for  the  papas  are  scowling  at  you  even 
more  than  in  other  portions  of  the  building.  They  know 
that  they  have  nothing  to  expect  of  such  unorthodox 
Christians  as  we  are.  Outside  the  door  we  continue  our 
way,  and  find  a  stone  stairs  winding  upward  in  an  angle 
formed  by  the  wall  of  Calvary  and  that  of  the  vestibule. 
We  might  as  well  ascend  the  stairs;  it  is  the  Latin  one, 
leading  up  to  Golgotha.  As  we  reach  the  top  we  see  two 
chapels,  divided  only  by  two  pillars  running  lengthwise 
between  them.  The  one  in  which  the  stairs  end  is  the 
Latin  chapel  of  the  crucifixion;  the  other  to  our  left  is 
the  Greek  chapel  of  the  death  of  Christ.  In  the  first  one, 
125 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

immediately  in  front  of  us,  the  mosaic  pavement  shows 
the  figure  of  a  cross ;  there  Jesus  lay  stretched  out  on  the 
real  cross,  and  while  He  was  being  nailed  to  it  by  three 
long  spikes  driven  through  hands  and  feet.  It  was  done 
in  such  a  cruel  manner  that  all  the  joints  of  His  arms 
and  limbs  were  dislocated.  Imagine  how  that  gang  of 
executioners  must  have  pulled  and  tugged  at  those  un- 
resisting limbs  in  order  to  wrench  them  so  far  apart. 
Remember  also,  if  you  like,  that  it  was  done  for  your 
benefit  and  mine.  In  front  is  the  altar,  which  commem- 
orates this  dreadful  nailing  to  the  cross.  Aside  of  it, 
to  the  left,  is  a  smaller  altar  with  the  statue  of  the  Mater 
Dolorosa;  there  Mary  stood,  when  the  quivering  limbs 
of  Jesus  were  being  nailed  to  the  cross,  and  there  she 
stood  during  the  three  hours,  while  He  hung  upon  it  in 
agony.  Who  is  so  stony-hearted  as  not  to  be  moved  by 
the  woe  of  such  a  Mother! 

But  we  pass  between  the  pillar  and  this  statue  to  our 
left  to  the  chapel  of  the  death  of  Christ.  The  Greeks  are 
jealously  watching  our  motions,  as  we  stand  before  the 
altar.  A  lifesize  silver  crucifix  is  fixed  into  the  native 
rock  at  our  feet.  Costly  lamps  and  candlesticks  and 
the  statue  of  the  holy  women  on  each  side  adorn  the 
altar.  From  the  ceiling  is  suspended  a  magnificent 
hanging  lamp,  in  which  colored  lights  are  burning.  A 
portion  of  the  bare  rock  immediately  around  the  cross  is 
uncovered,  and  about  three  feet  from  the  foot  is  the  open- 
ing of  a  large  crack  in  the  rock,  which  originated  at  the 
death  of  Christ.  At  the  moment  of  his  death  the  earth 
shook  in  her  foundations,  the  rock  of  Calvary  split 
between  the  cross  of  Christ  and  that  of  the  impenitent 
thief,  and  the  dead  arose  from  their  graves.  How  these 
happenings  must  have  frightened  the  inhabitants  of 
Jerusalem!  Yet  what  happened  then  is  only  a  slight 
foreshadowing  of  the  terrors  that  will  invade  the  earth 
on  the  last  day.  At  that  time  God  wished  only  to  warn 

126 


CALVARY. 

those  who  were  well  disposed;  the  terrors  of  the  last 
day  are  for  those  who  have  despised  all  his  commands 
and  all  his  kindness.  We  have  now  seen  the  whole  of 
the  church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre;  let  us  say  a  prayer 
at  the  Sepulchre,  and  leave  the  church,  esteeming  our- 
selves singularly  favored  in  having  been  permitted  to 
walk  through  these  most  sacred  places. 


127 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WlTH  THE  AUSTRIANS  TOMT.  MORIA — GREEN-MANTLED 
HADSHI  —  IN  OMAR  MOSQUE  —  THE  HADSHI'S 
BRAZEN  STATEMENTS  —  ORIENTAL  SPLENDOR  —  IN 
EL  AKSEH — A  FAT  MAN'S  PREDICAMENT — STABLES 
OF  SOLOMON  —  IN  BETHLEHEM  —  BASILICAS  AND 
CAVES  —  SHEPHERDS'  FIELD  AND  THE  MILK-CAVE  — 
DESPERATE  PLANS  —  HAPPY  EXPEDIENT  —  PRAC- 
TICAL HINTS. 

On  one  of  the  last  days  of  our  stay  we  accompanied 
the  Austrian  pilgrims  on  their  visit  to  Mount  Moria  and 
the  temple  grounds.  These  grounds  are  surrounded  on 
all  four  sides  by  walls  some  thirty  feet  high.  The  length 
of  the  grounds  is  about  half  a  mile  and  their  breadth  one 
quarter  of  a  mile.  It  is  a  plateau  half  covered  with 
rank,  untrimmed  grass.  In  the  middle  rises  the  beauti- 
ful Omar  mosque,  and  on  the  south  end  of  the  plateau 
the  vast  basilica  of  El  Akseh  spreads  out  over  the  vaults 
of  Solomon.  On  the  east,  near  the  Golden  gate,  is  an 
octagonal  kiosk,  and  along  the  west  and  north  walls  run 
porticos,  some  of  them  walled  up  to  serve  for  habitations 
of  those  in  charge  of  the  grounds.  Here  also  is  the 
dwelling  of  the  pasha,  which  is  surrounded  by  a  high 
minaret. 

On  our  entrance  we  were  taken  in  tow  by  a  gaunt, 
green-mantled  and  green-turbaned  Arab.  This  is  the 
dress  worn  by  the  hadshis,  or  those  who  have  made  the 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  But  when  I  asked  him  later  on, 
whether  he  had  made  that  pilgrimage,  he  answered  with 
infinite  disdain,  that  this  place  is  Mecca  enough.  Al- 
though none  among  the  pilgrims  besides  ourselves  under- 
129 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

stood  English,  he  began  to  sputter  away  his  Moslemite 
information  in  horridly  butchered  fragments  of  English, 
so  that  the  Germans  were  only  at  a  small  disadvantage 
in  comparison  with  ourselves.  The  substructure  of  the 
Omar  mosque  is  an  octagonal  of  the  most  graceful  pro- 
portions, and  the  beautiful  cupola  rises  above  it  to  the 
height  of  some  two  hundred  feet.  The  material  seems 
to  be  a  gray  limestone,  darkened  by  age.  The  sides  are 
broken  by  sculptured  panels,  within  which  are  the  Moor- 
ish windows  arranged  in  pairs.  There  are  four  portals 
on  each  of  the  four  larger  sides. 

Having  covered  our  feet  with  clumsy  overshoes,  we 
entered  on  the  west  side.  In  the  middle  an  irregularly 
shaped  rock,  some  fifty  feet  in  diameter,  rose  to  the  height 
of  about  eight  feet.  It  is  entirely  bare  and  surrounded  by 
a  circular  railing  of  equal  height.  Beautifully  propor- 
tioned pillars  circle  around  this  rock  and  aspire  to  the 
cupola.  The  railing  runs  from  pillar  to  pillar  in  grace- 
ful arabesque  and  trellis  work.  This  rock  is  the  summit 
of  Mount  Moria,  where  Abraham  had  intended  to  sacri- 
fice his  son.  The  hadshi  showed  us  some  circular  holes 
in  its  edge,  saying  that  they  are  the  fingermarks  of  the 
angel  Gabriel.  Mahomet,  he  said,  came  to  this  rock 
with  El  Borak,  his  heavenly  steed,  in  order  to  ascend  into 
heaven  to  the  throne  of  Allah.  But  even  the  mountains 
felt  the  effects  of  the  trance  in  which  Mahomet  fell  at  the 
moment  of  ascending.  When  the  prophet  began  to 
ascend,  the  rock  of  Moria  clung  to  the  feet  of  El  Borak 
to  accompany  the  prophet.  Probably  Allah  considered 
this  an  unnecessary  baggage,  which  would  retard  the 
journey.  So  he  sent  the  angel  Gabriel  in  order  to  hold 
the  unruly  mountain  in  its  place.  The  fearful  grasp  of 
the  angel  caused  his  fingers  to  bury  themselves  into  the 
rock,  thus  causing  the  small  holes.  The  hadshi  told  us 
this  story  with  the  most  solemn  face,  and  moreover  tried 
to  make  us  believe  that  this  rock  is  in  no  wise  connected 

130 


TEMPLE  SITE. 


with  the  rest  of  the  mountain,  but  remains  suspended 
some  ten  feet  in  mid-air ;  namely,  in  the  very  place  which 
it  had  already  reached  before  the  angel  came  to  stop  its 
yearning  flight.  Of  course  none  of  us  giaours  dared  to 
misbelieve  the  story.  A  hadshi  can't  tell  any  lies.  But 
I  must  say,  that  I  might  possibly  have  believed  some- 
what more  implicitly,  if  I  had  been  able  to  see  the  empty 
space  under  the  great  rock.  It  was  a  pity  that  the  four- 
foot  wall  running  all  around  it  prevented  us  from  verify- 
ing the  fact.  I  hope  the  reader  will  also  be  satisfied 
with  the  word  of  the  saintly  hadshi. 

The  great  cupola  is  directly  above  this  rock,  resting 
on  the  rotunda  of  beautiful  pillars.  Its  ceiling  is  richly 
gilded.  At  about  half  the  height  of  the  rotunda  the  sub- 
structure spreads  away  all  around  in  eight  octagonal 
sections.  The  gilding,  the  mosaic  and  trellis  work  on 
the  ceilings  and  walls  of  the  encircling  lower  structure,  are 
exquisitely  artistic.  Our  hadshi  now  brought  us  to  the 
south  side  and  showed  us  an  ordinary  cave  underneath 
the  great  rock.  The  sides  of  this  cave  were  covered  with 
marble  slabs,  but  above  us  were  some  projections.  He 
said  they  marked  the  places  where  Abraham,  Moses, 
Elias,  and  other  great  saints  had  forced  their  way  out  of 
this  cave,  as  soon  as  Mahomet  had  emigrated  to  the  better 
world.  Every  soul,  too,  that  is  destined  for  heaven  is 
kept  prisoner  in  this  cave,  until  it  can  force  an  opening 
through  the  solid  rock  above.  I  wonder  what  all  the 
millions  of  Mahometan  souls  thought  of  the  saintly 
hadshi  for  introducing  so  many  giaours  into  their  narrow 
abode.  Perhaps  they  stepped  out  through  the  open 
door  of  their  prison,  just  for  a  change,  until  the  cursed 
giaours  should  again  vacate  their  prison ;  some  of  them 
may  even  never  have  returned  to  bore  their  way  to 
heaven  through  the  rock. 

I  wished  also  the  hadshi  had  pointed  out  the  empty 
space  under  the  great  rock,  of  which  he  had  so  glibly  in- 
13* 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

formed  us  when  speaking  of  the  archangel's  fingerholes. 
We  were  under  it  now,  but  as  far  as  we  could  see,  without 
appearing  too  inquisitive,  the  rock  rested  on  a  mighty 
solid  foundation.  But  then  what  right  had  we  un- 
believing giaours  to  pry  so  closely  into  the  mysteries  of 
the  Haram  es  Sherif  ? 

The  Omar  mosque  occupies  the  site  of  the  Temple 
of  Solomon.  The  rock  probably  supported  the  sanc- 
tuary, or  holy  of  holies,  of  the  God  of  Israel.  On  the 
spacious  grounds  outside,  the  pious  Moslem  pilgrims 
as  they  approached,  showed  their  reverence  in  many 
ways,  now  kneeling  down,  now  raising  their  arms  in 
supplication,  now  prostrating  themselves  in  the  direction 
of  the  mosque.  About  one  hundred  feet  in  front  of  each 
of  the  four  portals,  at  the  foot  of  a  gently  rising  terrace, 
four  pillared  arches  guard  the  approaches. 

Our  hadshi  with  his  flowing  mantle  preceded  us  to 
the  mosque  El  Akseh  on  the  south  end  of  the  temple 
plateau.  This  building  is  much  larger  than  the  Omar 
mosque,  as  it  was  originally  the  great  five-naved  basilica 
built  by  the  crusaders  on  the  site  of  Solomon's  palaces. 
Its  shape  and  architecture,  being  basilican,  is  in  strange 
contrast  to  its  present  use.  The  Turks  keep  this  and 
the  Omar  mosque  in  fair  condition,  which  is  rarely  the 
case  with  other  mosques  in  the  Turkish  Empire.  As  one 
enters  the  main  portals,  two  rows  of  huge  Doric  pillars 
stretch  away  to  the  front,  carrying  the  high  middle  nave. 
Its  ceiling  rises  nearly  twice  the  height  of  the  four  other 
naves.  The  pavement  is  not  in  very  good  condition; 
part  of  it  is  covered  with  old  carpets. 

A  dervish  sat  in  the  rear  of  the  left  sidenave,  sur- 
rounded by  a  circle  of  Moslems.  He  was  explaining 
the  Koran.  Our  hadshi  brought  us  to  the  front  and  sung 
the  praises  of  the  mihrab,  or  front  niche,  and  of  the  great 
pulpit  carved  from  olive  wood.  Much  finer  ones  had  we 
seen  in  India.  The  pillars,  which  formerly  divided  the 

132 


EL  AKSEH. 

sanctuary  from  the  left  wing  of  the  church,  are  so  closely 
placed  together,  that  a  stout  man  could  not  pass  between 
them.  The  belief  was  current,  that  whoever  could 
manage  to  squeeze  through  between  these  pillars,  would 
also  be  certain  of  passing  through  the  gate  of  paradise. 
Some  time  ago  a  fat  Mahometan  dignitary,  wishing  to 
gain  this  certainty,  stuck  fast  between  these  pillars,  so 
that  they  had  to  cut  out  his  body.  In  order  to  prevent 
any  more  blocking  up  of  heaven's  gateways  by  carrion 
flesh,  the  spaces  between  the  pillars  are  now  walled  up. 
The  mosque  El  Akseh  seems  bare  and  cheerless,  for  all 
the  decorations  that  savor  of  Christianity  are  daubed 
over  with  dull  paint.  We  descended  into  the  subter- 
ranean crypt,  and  wondered  at  the  huge  blocks  of  stone 
which  form  the  foundation  of  the  basilica.  Parts  of  the 
foundations  date  back  to  Solomon's  time. 

In  fact  the  entire  southern  end  of  the  temple-ground 
is  really  a  platform,  which  rests  on  the  massive  vaults 
built  up  from  the  gentle  slope  of  the  hillside.  On  the 
southeast  corner  of  the  city  walls,  which  is  at  the  same 
time  the  southeast  corner  of  the  temple-grounds,  a 
passage  leads  down  underneath  this  platform.  The 
corridors  between  the  vaulted  columns  that  bear  the 
platform  are  called  the  stables  of  Solomon.  In  some 
places  the  iron  rings  and  the  stone  cribs  for  the  horses 
are  still  traceable.  Solomon  must  have  had  little  ob- 
jection to  the  smell  of  ammonia  usually  connected  with 
stables  of  horses,  for  his  palaces  were  built  above  these 
vaults.  The  masonry  of  these  vaults,  which  cover  seven 
acres  of  the  hillslope,  has  withstood  the  wear  of  three 
thousand  years,  and  it  is  apparently  as  solid  as  when 
first  erected.  A  few  openings  in  the  south  wall  admit 
some  light,  but  the  rear  vaults  are  in  darkness. 

Coming  again  to  daylight  our  hadshi  led  the  way  along 
the  east  wall  to  the  Golden  gate.  This  is  built  of  marble 
and  the  inside  forms  a  vestibule  with  some  exquisitely 

133 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

carved  pillars.  The  gate  is  said  to  have  been  built  by 
Solomon,  but  it  must  be  of  much  later  date.  It  has 
been  walled  up  ever  since  the  Moslems  obtained  posses- 
sion of  Jerusalem.  The  Turks  firmly  believe  that  this 
is  the  only  vulnerable  place  in  Jerusalem  and  that  here 
the  enemy  will  enter,  if  Jerusalem  ever  falls  into  the 
hands  of  the  Christians.  A  fair-sized  modern  cannon 
ball  from  the  Russian  hospice  on  the  west  side  of  the 
city  could  pave  its  way  through  the  whole  city  of  Jeru- 
salem, to  this  gate,  smash  it  to  atoms  and  chip  off  some 
splinters  from  the  rocks  of  Mount  Olivet  across  the  valley 
of  Josaphat.  What  infatuation  to  think  that  walling  up 
this  gate  should  save  this  city  from  invasion!  Near  this 
gate  is  a  small  octagonal  structure  of  white  marble,  in 
which  the  Moslems  claim  to  have  in  preservation  the 
throne  of  Solomon.  As  we  were  walking  over  the  uncut 
grass  toward  the  northwest  entrance  of  the  temple  square, 
the  muezzins  were  calling  out  their  "Allah  il  Allah." 
The  only  minaret  on  these  grounds  is  the  graceful  stone 
tower  that  rises  like  a  slender,  graceful  column,  150  feet 
above  the  dwelling  of  the  pasha.  It  occupies  the  north- 
west corner  of  the  temple  plateau.  The  turbaned 
muezzins  looked  like  boys  moving  around  the  minaret 
and  calling  out  their  summons  as  if  from  the  blue  sky. 
Their  clear  voices,  mingling  with  those  from  other  mina- 
rets in  Jerusalem  and  re-echoing  through  the  evening 
air,  seemed  like  a  reminder  to  many  a  Christian  of  his 
duty  to  pray.  This  at  least  is  an  admirable  institution 
of  Mahomet,  that  his  followers  are  reminded  so  often  of 
Allah  and  of  their  duty  to  seek  his  blessings. 

Next  morning  found  us  in  Bethlehem.  There  being 
no  opportunity  of  soon  saying  mass  on  the  altar  of  the 
crib,  I  said  it  on  the  altar  of  St.  Joseph,  next  to  the  cave  of 
the  Nativity.  The  Russians  were  having  their  services 
at  the  altar  of  the  Nativity.  It  consisted  of  interminable 
singing  in  long-drawn  notes.  The  celebrant  and  his  as- 

134 


BETHLEHEM'S  CAVE. 


sistants  in  colored  vestments  and  moving  about  in  the 
cave,  sang  endless  responses,  frequently  using  incense. 
After  they  had  finished,  we  made  the  tour  of  inspection  of 
the  caves  and  of  the  church.  A  few  stairs  in  the  rock 
lead  down  directly  into  the  cave  of  the  Nativity.  This  is 
about  thirty  by  ten  feet,  the  floor  paved  in  mosaics,  but 
the  bare  rocks  forming  the  vault  about  eight  feet  high. 
A  Turkish  soldier  guards  the  entrance  day  and  night. 
The  altar  of  the  Nativity  is  only  three  steps  from  the  en- 
trance in  the  front  wall.  A  silver  star,  in  the  marble 
slab  under  the  altar,  marks  the  precise  spot  of  the  birth 
of  Christ.  This  altar  belongs  to  the  Greeks.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  stairs  is  a  smaller  cave,  forming  a  sort  of 
alcove.  It  belongs  to  the  Latins  and  contains  two  altars ; 
one  on  the  place  where  the  three  kings  adored  the  Child, 
the  other  where  the  Child  rested  in  the  manger.  Oppo- 
site this  alcove  is  the  stairs  leading  up  into  the  Greek  or 
Russian  convent. 

Passing  through  the  length  of  the  larger  cave,  we  come 
to  a  miraculous  well  in  one  corner  and  to  a  narrow  passage 
on  the  other.  This  passage  leads  into  the  cave  of 
St.  Joseph.  An  altar  occupies  the  spot  where  Joseph 
received  the  message  of  the  angel,  bidding  him  arise  from 
sleep  and  fly  into  Egypt.  Next  to  this  cave  is  the  cave 
of  the  holy  Innocents.  Their  altar  stands  over  a  deep 
cavity  in  the  floor,  into  which  many  bodies  of  the  slaugh- 
tered Innocents  were  thrown.  From  this  cave  there 
are  two  different  passages ;  one  leads  up  into  the  church 
of  St.  Catherine  in  charge  of  the  Franciscans,  the  other 
leads  into  another  cave.  In  this  cave  there  are  three 
altars :  the  altar  of  St.  Eusebius,  of  St.  Paula  and  Eus- 
tochium,  and  of  St.  Jerome.  All  these  saints  have  spent 
a  good  part  of  their  lives  in  these  caves.  Still  another 
and  larger  cave  is  connected  with  the  one  last  named,  and 
was  the  habitation  of  St.  Jerome  for  many  years. 

We  must  now  go  back  to  the  cave  of  the  Innocents  in 
135 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

order  to  pass  up  the  stone  stairs  in  to  the  church  of  St. 
Catherine.  Let  the  reader  understand,  that  there  are 
three  entrances  to  the  caves,  and  that  two  churches  are 
built  aside  of  each  other  above  these  caves ;  two  entrances 
connect  with  the  churches,  and  one  with  the  street.  The 
older  of  the  two  churches  is  the  basilica  of  the  Nativity, 
which  dates  back  to  the  time  of  St.  Helena,  and  is  now 
in  the  hands  of  the  Russians.  The  body  of  this  church 
contains  five  naves,  resting  on  four  rows  of  doric  pillars. 
So  little  do  the  Greeks  or  Russian,  care  for  the  venerable 
building,  which  they  stole  from  the  Franciscans,  that 
they  allow  a  public  market  to  be  held  in  its  main  part; 
the  sanctuary  they  have  partitioned  off  and  use  for  their 
parochial  church.  On  each  side  of  the  middle  of  this 
sanctuary,  about  thirty-five  feet  apart,  are  two  stairs, 
both  leading  directly  to  the  grotto  and  altar  of  the  Na- 
tivity. Behind  and  aside  of  the  basilica,  on  the  right  as 
we  face  the  altar,  are  convents  of  the  Greek  and  Arme- 
nian monks.  On  the  left  of  the  ancient  church  of  the 
Nativity  adjoins  the  church  of  St.  Catherine  and  the 
Franciscan  monasteries  and  schools.  Near  the  portals 
of  this  church  is  a  passage  underground  leading  directly 
to  the  caves  of  the  holy  Innocents  and  of  St.  Joseph, 
which  connect  it  with  the  cave  of  the  Nativity.  The 
church  of  St.  Catherine  is  only  three-naved  and  only 
half  as  long  as  the  basilica  of  the  Nativity.  Both  these 
churches  are  so  hidden  by  the  adjoining  convents,  that 
nothing  except  the  belfry  of  St.  Catherine  is  prominent 
to  view  outside.  We  had  a  whole  case  of  devotional 
articles  brought  into  the  cave  of  the  Nativity  and  laid  on 
the  holy  places,  in  order  to  serve  as  mementoes  to  our 
friends  on  our  return.  One  of  the  Franciscan  fathers 
blessed  these  articles  and  attached  to  them  the  great 
indulgences. 

Afterwards  a  guide  took  us  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
down  into  the  valley  of  the  shepherds.    Here  the  angelic 

136 


AROUND  BETHLEHEM. 


hosts  appeared  to  the  simple  shepherds  to  announce  the 
birth  of  Christ.  The  precise  spot  of  their  appearance  is 
a  grotto  under  the  vaulted  ruins  of  an  old  church.  It  is 
in  the  possession  of  the  Greeks  and  they  keep  it  in  their 
own  neglectful  way.  They  have,  however,  put  a  fence 
around  the  place  and  demand  a  bakshish  from  visitors. 
Nothing  is  to  be  seen  inside  except  crumbling  stones  and 
dirt.  On  our  return  we  made  a  detour  to  the  southwest 
side  of  Bethlehem,  where,  on  a  high  hill,  is  the  Milk- 
grotto.  Here  the  Blessed  Virgin  stayed  for  a  short  time 
with  the  Child.  A  miraculous  spring  welled  from  the 
solid  rock,  where,  as  tradition  says,  some  of  the  Virgin's 
milk  dropped,  while  she  was  nursing  the  Infant  Jesus. 
The  Franciscans  have  transformed  the  grotto  and  its 
surroundings  into  a  beauty  spot.  The  interior  is  richly 
decorated  and  several  lights  burn  continually  on  the 
marble  altar.  A  garden  filled  with  an  abundance  of 
flowers  befittingly  enclosed  the  grotto.  Pilgrims  gen- 
erally take  along  some  of  the  limestone  ground,  baked 
into  pellets,  which  is  said  to  be  of  wonderful  efficacy 
in  curing  the  ailments  of  child-bearing  women.  The 
streets  of  Bethlehem,  though  narrow  and  irregular,  have 
an  ah*  of  business  about  them.  The  people  seem  to  be 
more  prosperous  and  of  higher  type  than  those  .generally 
met  with  in  Jerusalem  and  Palestine.  The  principal 
industry  is  the  manufacture  of  devotional  articles.  Hav- 
ing packed  our  goods  in  a  box  ready  for  shipment  at 
Dabdoub's  store,  we  brought  it  to  Jerusalem,  and  shipped 
it  to  New  York  through  Singer's  express  agency. 

We  had  spent  about  a  month  in  the  Holy  Land  and 
it  was  time  for  us  to  look  for  passage  on  some  out-bound 
vessel  in  Jaffa.  But  an  unexpected  difficulty  arose: 
quarantine  had  been  declared  against  all  vessels  from 
eastern  ports.  Hence,  on  all  such  vessels,  we  were  liable 
to  quarantine  on  arrival  in  European  or  Turkish  ports. 
Besides,  no  steamer  was  due  at  Jaffa  within  the  next  few 
137 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

weeks.  I  had  already  urgently  requested  the  manager 
of  the  Austrian  pilgrimage  to  be  permitted  to  take  passage 
on  their  chartered  steamer.  But  they  had  given  me 
small  hope,  claiming  that  their  steamer  was  overcrowded, 
and  that  they  were  afraid  of  difficulties  on  landing  at 
Triest,  if  they  brought  passengers  not  belonging  to  the 
pilgrimage.  As  the  season  was  far  advanced,  it  would 
be  a  great  hardship  to  lose  at  least  ten  days  in  quaran- 
tine. We  thought  ourselves  somewhat  ill  used  by  the 
refusal  of  the  Austrian  pilgrims  to  take  us  aboard. 
Hence  we  had  made  up  our  minds  to  smuggle  ourselves 
aboard  the  ship  with  the  crowd  of  pilgrims  and  see  what 
would  come  of  the  matter  later  on.  They  could  take 
their  choice,  either  to  accept  pay  for  the  voyage,  or  else 
throw  us  overboard,  like  Jonah  of  old,  who  played  a 
similar  trick  in  the  very  same  port.  At  any  rate,  we 
were  prepared  to  take  the  risk  and  treatment  of  stow- 
aways, rather  than  be  delayed  by  quarantine. 

In  order  to  put  our  desperate  plan  into  execution  it 
was  necessary  to  be  on  hand  on  the  morning  when  the 
pilgrims  were  to  embark  on  the  Poseidon.  Accordingly 
we  took  the  morning  train  for  Jaffa  on  the  day  before. 
At  the  Franciscan  hospice  in  Jaffa,  we  found  four  of  the 
Austrian  pilgrims,  two  of  them  very  sick.  They  readily 
promised  to  co-operate  in  our  scheme ;  for  we  did  not  tell 
them  of  the  scanty  encouragement  which  the  managers 
of  the  pilgrimage  had  given  us  on  applying  for  passage. 
As  we  would  probably  have  to  sleep  on  deck  during  our 
passage,  we  bought  two  woolen  blankets  in  one  of  the 
bazaars.  A  Christian  native  of  the  hospice  had  accom- 
panied us  on  this  purchase,  and  he  naturally  inquired 
about  the  use  we  intended  to  make  of  the  blankets. 
When  we  had  explained  to  him,  that  we  would  probably 
need  them  for  sleeping  on  deck  of  the  Poseidon,  he  asked 
us  why  we  did  not  take  the  Aphrodite  to  Constantinople, 
instead  of  crowding  ourselves  on  board  the  pilgrim  ship. 

138 


THE  APHRODITE. 


The  Aphrodite  was  a  small  steamer  anchored  in  the  har- 
bor, of  which  the  brother  in  the  hospice  had  told  us  that 
it  was  bound  for  Alexandria,  just  the  place  which  we 
wanted  to  avoid  on  account  of  the  quarantine.  How 
glad  we  were  to  find,  that  she  was  to  depart  that  day,  not 
for  Alexandria,  but  for  Constantinople,  and  that  she 
would  nowhere  be  subject  to  quarantine,  since  she  had 
not  touched  at  any  Egyptian  port.  On  my  getting  aboard 
the  Aphrodite,  the  captain  accompanied  me  to  the  shore 
and  procured  tickets  to  Constantinople  at  a  greatly  re- 
duced rate.  We  paid  only  eighty  francs  for  two  first 
cabin  tickets  to  Constantinople.  Having  sold  our  blank- 
ets again  to  the  very  merchant  from  whom  we  had  bought 
them,  we  now  looked  to  the  arrival  of  the  Austrian  pil- 
grims with  great  equanimity. 

At  about  nine  o'clock  they  came  trooping  along  from 
the  depot  in  irregular  groups  and  began  entering  the 
small  boats  in  great  confusion.  The  Poseidon  was  riding 
at  anchor  half  a  mile  out  beyond  the  dangerous  rocks 
inshore.  The  embarking  of  the  pilgrims  took  nearly 
two  hours  and  from  the  high  balcony  of  the  hospice  it 
presented  a  very  lively  scene.  With  some  of  the  last 
stragglers  I  boarded  the  pilgrim  ship  and  saw  her  whole 
interior  honeycombed  with  rude  berths.  I  then  realized 
how  fortunate  we  had  been  in  procuring  passage  on  the 
other  vessel.  My  desire  had  been  to  see  Constantinople ; 
now,  instead  of  going  direct  to  Triest,  we  would  be  able 
to  visit  several  of  the  historic  islands  and  sea-coast  cities 
of  the  Mediterranean,  and  of  Syria  and  Asiatic  Turkey, 
and,  in  easy  stages,  finally  reach  Constantinople. 

Proudly  the  great  pilgrim  ship,  with  booming  cannons, 
flying  pennants,  and  martial  music  moved  away  into  the 
Mediterranean,  and  from  the  balcony  of  the  hospice  we 
waved  the  inmates  a  friendly  adieu.  The  Poseidon 
dwindled  more  and  more  into  the  distance  and  finally 
disappeared  beneath  the  dark-blue  horizon.  We  our- 
139 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

selves  embarked  on  the  trim  Aphrodite  at  four  o'clock, 
and  a  few  hours  later  the  ship  weighed  anchor,  carrying 
us  away  from  the  shores  of  the  Holy  Land.  Blessed  are 
the  days  we  spent  there,  full  of  pleasing  and  consoling 
memories.  "Si  oblitus  fuero  tui  Jerusalem  oblivioni 
detur  dextera  mea ;  adhaereat  lingua  mea  f aucibus  meis, 
si  non  meminero  tui:  si  non  proposuero  Jerusalem  in 
principio  laetitiae  meae."  "If  I  forget  thee,  Jerusalem, 
may  my  right  hand  be  given  to  oblivion;  let  my  tongue 
cleave  to  my  mouth,  if  I  am  not  mindful  of  thee ;  if  I  do 
not  place  Jerusalem  in  the  beginning  of  my  joy." 

PRACTICAL  HINTS.  In  regard  to  the  traditions  connected 
with  the  holy  places  in  Palestine,  it  is  good  to  exercise  some  judg- 
ment. The  most  reliable  source  of  information  is  the  Catholic 
church,  and  especially  the  Franciscan  order.  The  Catholic 
church  has  always  shown  pious  interest  in  the  places  connected 
with  the  doings  of  biblical  personages,  and  therefore  she  was  the 
faithful  custodian  of  the  holy  places,  just  as  she  has  been  the  only 
custodian  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  The  Mahometans  have  so 
mixed  their  fables  with  holy  persons  and  places,  that  practically 
nothing  reliable  concerning  the  original  history  remains  to  them. 
The  schismatic  Greeks,  Armenians,  Copts,  Syrians,  never  did 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  traditions  which  they  received  from  the 
mother  church,  and  therefore  much  of  their  information  is  dis- 
torted and  full  of  errors.  The  importance  of  the  principal  facts 
connected  with  a  place  is  very  often  minimized  in  favor  of  minor 
circumstances  bearing  out  their  schismatic  doctrines. 

Since  the  twelfth  century  the  Franciscans  were  the  sole  cus- 
todians of  holy  places  and  of  their  traditions.  They  have  spent 
large  sums  of  money  for  excavations,  and  in  many  places  historic 
accounts  are  still  extant  dating  back  many  centuries.  Ever  since 
St.  Francis  visited  the  Orient  the  custody  of  the  Holy  Land  is  inti- 
mately interwoven  with  the  whole  history  of  their  order.  Hence 
there  is  no  doubt  that  their  information  is  the  most  reliable.  From 
this  it  follows,  that  the  most  advantageous  places  to  take  lodging 
are  their  hospices  in  the  different  parts  of  Palestine.  Those  that 
make  a  longer  stay  in  the  Holy  Land,  should  guard  against  a  sick- 
ness which  sometimes  besets  pilgrims.  It  is  a  peculiar  sort  of 
fever,  the  nature  of  which  is  not  known  and  is  called  Jerusalem 
fever.  Residents  there  may  have  some  remedies  against  it,  but 
after  it  has  once  taken  a  good  hold,  the  only  safety  is  to  depart 
as  soon  as  possible. 

140 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LIBANTJS  MOUNT  —  HIGH  WORDS  AT  Low  INSINUA- 
TIONS —  NEAR  ANTIOCH  —  IN  TARSUS  OF  CILI- 
CIA  —  RHODES  AND  CHIOS. 

Jaffa,  rising  like  a  hemisphere  of  white  buildings  from 
either  side  of  the  shore,  was  a  long  time  in  sight,  but  grad- 
ually the  widening  distance  and  the  gathering  dusk  hid 
it  and  the  adjoining  hills  from  view.  The  morning  of 
Thursday,  May  loth,  found  us  on  the  calm,  sunny  ocean 
off  the  coast  of  Beirut.  Hermon's  snowy  top,  9,500  feet 
high,  glittered  like  a  giant  over  the  Libanus  range  along 
the  Syrian  shore. 

At  table  the  few  passengers  entered  freely  into  con- 
versation. Among  them  was  a  lady,  Mrs.  Hanson,  who 
seemed  to  be  some  kind  of  reporter  for  a  periodical  in  Eng- 
land. She  was  accompanied  by  an  Arab  dragoman  and 
his  son,  a  native  of  Ramallah,  the  town  I  failed  to  find  on 
my  trip  to  Nazareth.  The  captain  spoke  some  English, 
he  and  the  other  officers,  and  three  or  four  passengers, 
were  Greeks.  As  the  lady  began  to  talk  about  seasick- 
ness, I  remarked,  that  while  affected  with  it,  one  does  not 
know  whether  the  next  lurch  of  the  vessel  would  throw 
one  into  the  bottom  of  hell,  or  send  him  up  to  heaven, 
altogether  unprepared  for  enjoyment,  so  undefined  was 
the  feeling  it  is  apt  to  cause.  The  strong  comparison 
at  once  brought  the  dragoman  to  introduce  religion.  I 
have  always  noticed,  that  there  is  no  surer  way  to  stir  up 
religious  discussion,  than  to  merely  hint  at  hell.  In  so- 
called  polite  society,  no  mention  must  be  made  of  hell. 
It  touches  everybody  to  the  quick,  which  no  doubt  is  a 
proof,  that  the  dim  fear  of  hell  is  in  every  human  breast, 
141 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  is  in  itself  a  cogent  proof  of  the  existence  of  hell. 
Else  why  such  sensitiveness  ? 

Without  any  introduction  the  dragoman  asked  me 
pointedly,  whether  I  was  not  a  Catholic  priest.  Yes, 
of  course.  Why  do  Catholic  priests  demand  money  for 
absolving  sins,  and  why  do  they  claim  to  be  able  to  lib- 
erate souls  from  purgatory  for  stipulated  sums  of  money  ? 
This  was  a  little  too  much  for  my  equanimity.  I  spoiled 
some  of  his  barefaced  assurance,  by  telling  him  that 
any  one  who  claimed  to  be  able  to  prove  that  assertion 
was  a  liar.  I  felt  a  twinge  of  conscience  for  having  used 
so  strong  a  term  at  table  and  before  ladies,  but  once 
having  made  the  sally,  which  the  occasion  perhaps  justi- 
fied, I  bombarded  him  with  what  easily  came  to  hand 
just  then.  He  shielded  himself  by  saying  that  many 
people  had  told  him  so.  His  informers  were  relegated 
to  the  aforesaid  class  of  individuals.  All  the  priests  in 
the  world  could  not  change  the  fate  of  any  soul,  if 
money  were  to  be  used  as  motive  power.  But  Catho- 
lics believe  and  know  the  efficacy  of  prayer  and  sacrifice 
offered  for  such  souls  as  were  suffering  in  purgatory. 
Hence  they  ask  the  intercession  of  the  priest  as  minister 
of  God,  not  only  for  themselves,  but  for  their  deceased 
friends.  To  accept  payment  for  giving  absolution,  for 
indulgences,  masses,  or  prayers  is  branded  by  the  church 
as  Simony  and  is  punished  in  the  severest  manner. 
Every  Catholic  understands  this  and  they  are  the  last 
to  offer  any  payment  for  spiritual  favors.  The  gifts 
offered  on  such  occasions  are  looked  upon  as  contri- 
butions either  toward  the  building  and  maintenance 
of  churches  and  schools,  or  for  the  support  of  the  pastors. 
Why  should  that,  which  is  freely  done  in  every  religious 
denomination  all  over  the  world  and  in  every  profession, 
be  a  crime  only  in  the  Catholic  church?  Besides,  no 
money  is  ever  offered  for  confession  or  absolution.  As 
the  dragoman  was  not  a  revengeful  or  malicious  man, 

142 


SHIP  COMPANY. 


only  a  great  talker,  we  were  soon  on  good  terms  again 
and  remained  so  during  the  voyage. 

No  very  strict  separation  was  kept  between  first  and 
second  class  passengers  on  the  Greek  vessel.  Some 
Greek  papas  in  second  class,  were  with  the  first  class 
passengers  most  of  the  time.  We  were  glad  to  have  calm 
weather,  for  as  the  Aphrodite  was  not  a  large  vessel,  we 
would  have  been  thrown  about  considerably  in  a  rough 
sea.  Moonlight  lay  over  the  rippling  sea  and  over 
the  distant  Libanus,  that  hides  the  historic  plains  of 
Damascus.  Snow  gleamed  between  some  of  the  bare 
mountain-crags,  while  at  their  base  dark  streaks  marked 
the  woody  slopes  and  green  fields  along  the  shore. 
Early  in  the  morning  we  entered  the  bay  of  Iskende- 
roum  or  ancient  Antioch.  The  city  itself  is  in  ruins  and 
replaced  by  a  small  town  called  Antaka.  At  Alexand- 
retta  where  Alexander  gained  his  first  decisive  victory 
on  his  march  to  Persia,  the  Turkish  harbor-officials  sur- 
prised us  by  their  polite  and  reasonable  reception  on 
landing.  We  walked  through  the  cobble-stone  streets 
of  Alexandretta,  past  many  shops,  that  had  a  business- 
like air  about  them,  to  the  Catholic  church  in  charge  of 
the  Carmelites.  One  of  the  fathers  sat  in  a  forlorn 
schoolroom,  waiting  for  his  laggard  scholars  to  appear. 
He  told  us  that  the  trip  to  the  ruins  of  Antioch  would 
take  two  days,  but  one  could  get  a  distant  view  of  the 
surroundings,  from  a  mountain-pass  behind  Bela,  ten 
miles  from  here.  The  excursion  to  the  mountain-pass 
would  in  itself  be  a  very  pleasant  ride.  Thereupon  we 
concluded,  if  possible,  to  secure  conveyance  to  Bela. 

A  boy  conducted  us  to  a  large  khan,  and,  as  we  pre- 
tended not  to  be  so  very  anxious,  we  soon  got  offers  of 
a  carriage  for  a  reasonable  price.  But  our  driver  this 
time  was  not  Mahomet,  of  Jerusalem.  After  making  a 
spurt  out  of  town,  he  and  his  horses  seemed  bent  on  sleep 
more  than  on  making  any  particular  headway.  They 

H3 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

slowly  crawled  up  the  gentle  slopes,  which  descended 
from  the  rugged  mountains  to  the  sea.  We  were  not 
sorry,  for  the  scenery  became  more  and  more  charming. 
As  we  passed  through  a  rocky  gorge,  Bela  lay  before  us 
crouched  up  in  the  angle  of  two  adjoining  mountains. 
The  roofs  of  its  houses  were  made  of  dark-colored  tile, 
and  looked  like  irregular  black  terraces  at  the  head  of 
the  mountain  gulch.  Mountains  clad  in  verdure 
hemmed  us  in  on  three  sides  as  we  climbed  farther  up, 
while  to  the  rear  of  us,  northwest  of  Alexandretta,  the 
great  Taurus  range  stretched  away  like  vast  western 
continents.  Southward  of  the  mountains,  far  out  in  the 
blue  ocean,  the  hazy  cliffs  of  the  island  of  Cyprus  are 
visible.  A  comparatively  fine  pike  road  winds  through 
the  mountain-pass ;  it  is  maintained  by  the  toll  receipts. 

The  inhabitants  of  Bela  mustered  us  closely,  though 
not  uncivilly.  Their  appearance  was  that  of  well-to-do 
and  independent  people;  no  beggars  were  met  with. 
There  is  a  pretty  strong  sprinkling  of  Druses  among 
them ;  many  of  these  could  be  seen  in  the  street  in  their 
gaudy  and  snug-fitting  garments.  They  seem  a  stalwart 
and  hardy  race.  The  shops  and  houses  have  an  ap- 
pearance of  prosperity  and  enterprise  about  them,  quite 
different  from  those  in  Palestine. 

After  about  two  miles  of  further  climbing  we  arrived 
at  the  mountain-pass,  from  whence  the  road  again  de- 
scends to  distant  plains.  To  the  left  the  plains  are  much 
broken  up  by  lakes  and  marshes,  while  on  the  verges 
of  the  plain  to  the  right  the  ruins  of  Antioch  were  dimly 
visible.  A  spur  of  hills  intercepts  the  view  of  the  village 
of  Antaka.  From  the  heights  on  which  we  stood,  the 
army  of  Alexander  may  have  viewed  Antioch  from  afar, 
or  the  crusaders,  in  their  weary  march,  may  have  been 
gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  rich  plains  and  the  prospect 
of  glorious  contest  against  the  Moslem  hosts  gathered 
together  in  Antioch. 

144 


ANCIENT  ANTIOCH. 


On  our  return  the  driver  had  accepted  as  a  com- 
panion, a  Druse  lad  of  about  sixteen  years.  Though  he 
was  but  a  poor  mountaineer,  he  had  a  fine  and  noble 
bearing  about  him.  Half  way  down,  our  driver,  having 
noticed  that  we  took  some  interest  in  the  flowers  that 
grew  in  profusion  on  the  mountain  slopes,  decorated  the 
horses  and  the  carriage  with  huge  bushes  of  yellow 
blossoms.  We  rode  into  Alexandretta  in  gala  style; 
however  laggard  the  pace  had  been  uphill,  our  driver, 
on  approaching  the  town,  lashed  the  horses  into  a  furious 
gallop.  Our  carriage  was  in  danger  of  being  knocked  to 
splinters  on  the  rough  boulders,  and  we  ourselves,  of 
landing  in  some  hole  along  the  wayside.  But  if  reckless, 
he  was  an  expert  driver,  and  no  accident  happened. 

Not  a  single  hint  was  given  us  on  leaving  the  custom 
pier,  that  a  bakshish  was  expected.  We  mentally  scored 
a  point  in  favor  of  the  harbor  officials  of  Alexandretta. 
Our  good  ship  resumed  her  voyage,  and  now  headed 
southwestward  in  order  to  clear  the  great  promontory  of 
Asia  Minor.  The  silvery  sheen  of  the  moon  glittered  in 
the  wake  of  the  vessel,  and  our  quibs  and  jokes  were 
sometimes  interrupted  by  the  merry  laughter  or  animated 
conversation  of  other  passengers  around  us.  These 
nights  on  the  ship  were  among  the  pleasant  ones  of  our 
great  journey. 

As  we  arose  on  the  next  morning,  the  slanting  rays 
of  the  rising  sun  played  on  the  verdant  plains  and  the 
receding  mountains  of  the  Taurus  range.  Before  us  lay 
the  town  of  Mersina,  spreading  out  on  the  level  shores 
of  Cilicia.  We  hastened  ashore  and  to  the  Franciscan 
church.  The  fathers  here  are  desperately  poor,  for  the 
contributions  of  the  natives  toward  the  church  are  next 
to  nothing,  and  they  have  to  depend  upon  the  precarious 
remittances  from  the  Propaganda.  Yet  they  had  man- 
aged to  build  a  church,  though  they  themselves  still  lived 
in  a  ruinous  convent.  Our  intention  was  to  make  an 

145 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

excursion  to  Tarsus,  the  reputed  birthplace  of  St.  Paul. 
It  lies  some  twenty  miles  off  to  the  eastward,  in  the  same 
wide  plain  as  Mersina.  The  roads  had  been  paved 
once  upon  a  time;  now  the  rough  huge  boulders  pro- 
jected out  of  the  ground,  deep  ruts  had  been  worn  out  by 
the  wagon  wheels,  and  bottomless  mud-holes  yawned 
for  horse  and  carriage.  At  a  distance  of  four  or  five 
miles  to  our  left,  the  Taurus,  still  seamed  with  streaks 
of  winter's  snows,  rose  over  the  plain.  Waving  grain- 
fields  and  verdant  pastures  lined  both  sides  of  our  road. 
Bands  of  men  and  women,  in  their  wide  Turkish  gar- 
ments, were  busy  here  and  there  cutting  the  yellow  grain 
with  hand-sickles  and  binding  the  swelling  sheaves  as  in 
times  of  old.  I  doubt,  whether  in  all  this  country  even 
one  harvesting  machine  could  be  found.  Why  should 
land-owners  invest  money  in  machines,  when  for  a  few 
medjids  they  could  hire  hundreds  of  busy  hands  ?  Cara- 
vans of  heavily  laden  camels  passed  us  on  the  road,  but 
also  a  railroad  train  rumbled  by  in  the  valley  to  our 
left.  A  few  Tcherkess  horsemen  stormed  past  us  like 
the  wind,  as  we  came  in  sight  of  Tarsus. 

The  water  of  the  river  Cydnus  is  skilfully  distributed 
in  and  around  Tarsus  by  irrigation  channels  and  pro- 
duces a  luxurious  vegetation.  Trees  and  shrubs  were 
in  full  blossom,  filling  the  air  with  fragrance.  We  had 
traversed  the  lively  bazaar  streets  up  and  down  before  we 
met  any  one  who  could  understand  what  we  wanted. 
A  young  native  at  last  accosted  us  in  English  and  offered 
to  bring  us  to  the  Presbyterian  College,  and  show  us  the 
other  sights  of  Tarsus.  The  Presbyterian  College  and 
Seminary  are  under  management  of  Dr.  Christie.  When 
our  young  guide,  who  was  a  student  of  the  seminary, 
announced  us  at  the  home  of  Dr.  Christie,  I  suppose  the 
good  rector  had  a  fainting  spell.  A  Catholic  priest 
paying  a  visit  to  the  hot-bed  of  Presbyterian  Calvinism 
in  Asia!  His  wife  returned  with  the  message  from  the 

146 


Ax  TARSUS. 

interior  (we  were  not  invited  to  enter,  but  stood  on  the 
doorsteps),  that  the  doctor  was  not  to  be  seen.  They 
have  quite  an  establishment  here,  though  the  buildings 
would  scarcely  do  for  an  institution  of  the  same  kind  in 
our  country.  Our  young  guide  seemed  somewhat 
demoralized  at  the  reception  which  we  got.  Poor  lad, 
he  seemed  to  think  an  American  Catholic  gentleman, 
and  one  who  seemed  just  as  good  as  any  Protestant 
minister,  ought  to  be  made  welcome.  Later  on,  he  gave 
me  to  understand  that  he  could  not  account  for  our  recep- 
tion. 

He  readily  accompanied  us  to  the  parish  priest  of 
United  Armenians.  His  chapel  and  dwelling  were  mere 
hovels,  while  the  schismatic  Armenians  near  by  have  a 
fine  church,  crowned  with  a  well-proportioned  dome. 
On  the  outskirts  of  the  town  is  an  immense  concrete  wall 
which  has  withstood  the  wind  and  weather  of  thirty-five 
centuries.  It  is  said  to  be  the  remains  of  the  mausoleum 
of  Sardanapalus.  Tarsus  is  held  to  be  the  birthplace  of 
St.  Paul  by  the  inhabitants,  and  they  are  proud  of  the 
distinction.  It  is  at  least  certain,  that  he  spent  a  number 
of  years  in  this  town  and  probably  received  his  education 
here.  The  falls  of  the  river  Cydnus  near  the  city  afford 
a  beautiful  bit  of  natural  scenery.  Returning  to  the 
bazaars,  we  reveled  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  dainties 
of  a  Turkish  dinner.  This  consisted  of  nothing  more 
or  less  than  goodly  portions  of  rice  pillau  and  well 
peppered  hash.  Only  it  was  supplemented  by  a  bottle 
of  raki.  We  now  knew  there  was  some  substantial 
reason  for  the  huge  platters  and  pots  of  pillau  and  meat 
sauce,  that  one  sees  exposed  in  the  open  shops  of  the 
Turkish  towns.  Several  times  afterwards  we  made 
hearty  meals  of  these  Turkish  delicacies. 

Our  swarthy  driver,  Gellah,  in  the  meanwhile  had 
fed  his  horses  and  now  made  signs  that  we  must  be  off  on 
our  return,  if  we  would  catch  the  steamer.  A  few  miles 

147 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

out  from  Tarsus  he  suddenly  jumped  off  the  carriage  and 
ran  toward  some  shepherds  in  the  fields.  There  he 
bought  a  jet  black  lamb  and  most  unconcernedly  placed 
it  between  us  in  the  carriage  with  a  bundle  of  green  oats. 
We  were  not  unwilling  to  have  the  gentle  beast  as  our 
companion  and  pitied  its  sad  fate,  for  no  doubt  it  was  to 
serve  as  food  in  the  near  future.  One  of  the  industries 
of  this  region  must  be  the  manufacture  of  rose-water.  A 
tavern  on  the  roadside  was  literally  hidden  from  view 
by  the  rose-bushes  around  it  and  trailing  up  its  sides. 
The  scent  of  roses  filled  the  air.  To  the  credit  of  the 
harbor  officials  of  Mersina  be  it  said,  that  they,  like  those 
of  Alexandretta,  caused  us  no  delay  or  trouble  in  landing 
or  in  embarking.  The  vessel  soon  had  resumed  its 
westerly  course  along  the  shores  of  Cilicia,  the  moonlit 
Taurus  mountains  standing  guard  to  our  right.  Mrs. 
Hanson  regretted  very  much' that  she  had  not  joined  us 
in  our  excursion  to  Tarsus,  as  it  had  partly  been  arranged 
between  us  the  day  before.  A  strong  gale  blew  into  the 
teeth  of  our  vessel,  but  as  she  cut  straight  through  the 
waves,  the  swaying  of  the  steamer  was  not  considerable 
and  seasickness  did  not  make  itself  felt. 

In  the  morning,  which  was  Sunday  May  thirteenth, 
the  great  mountain-chain  of  the  Taurus  receded  to  the 
right  and  fell  into  small  spurs  ahead.  Our  boat  swept 
northward  in  a  wide  curve  past  the  bay  of  Adalia  toward 
the  island  of  Rhodes.  The  sea  was  rough  all  day  and 
the  rebellious  play  of  the  waves  brought  on  a  sympathetic 
rebellion  of  the  stomach.  But  with  grim  determination 
I  sat  on  deck,  writing  about  thirty  pages  of  my  journal. 
Frequently  the  next  day  we  passed  islands  on  both  sides 
of  us.  Our  steamer  seemed  to  have  shifted  its  load,  for 
it  hung  considerably  to  the  starboard  side.  Early  in  the 
afternoon,  the  island  of  Rhodes  rose  out  of  the  sea  and 
the  steamer  anchored  a  few  hundred  yards  from  its 
bastioned  harbor- walls.  The  bright  sunlight  fell  on  the 

148 


RHODES. 

old  fortifications,  now  crumbling  to  ruins  on  both  sides  of 
the  lively  tree-shaded  quay  in  the  centre.  Two  circular 
stone  piers  ran  out  from  each  side  of  the  town  of  Rhodes, 
ending  in  two  strong  towers  at  a  distance  of  about  a 
hundred  yards  from  each  other.  The  stalwart  boatman, 
as  he  rowed  past  between  these  two  towers  said  that  on 
them  stood  astride  the  colossal  statue  of  Rhodes.  It 
must  have  been  an  immense  statue,  if  that  is  true.  I 
suspect  that  the  original  towers  were  much  closer 
together. 

How  easy  these  Rhodesians  take  life!  Hundreds  of 
chatting,  smoking  men  in  their  airy  Turkish  costumes 
sat  under  the  trees  in  full  view  of  the  harbor,  sipping 
their  coffee  from  tiny  cups  and  inhaling  the  fumes  of 
their  nargilehs.  They  eyed  us  strangers  with  indolent 
glances  as  we  passed.  None  of  them  seemed  to  think 
that  the  world  would  stop  revolving,  if  they  did  not 
bestir  themselves  as  we  Americans  do.  Our  boatman 
claimed  to  be  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  Spanish  knights, 
who  defended  Rhodes  against  the  whole  Turkish  empire 
for  several  hundred  years.  He  was  only  too  willing  to 
show  us  up  some  of  the  old  streets  of  the  town.  The 
houses  evidently  were  of  European  origin.  Many  of 
them  had  escutcheons  of  the  noble  families  on  their 
fronts.  But  all  are  falling  into  ruin.  Not  a  soul  is 
seen  on  the  streets;  the  men  are  all  down  on  the  shady 
quay  amusing  themselves,  while  the  women  no  doubt 
are  secluded  in  these  old  houses. 

How  easy  it  was  to  conjure  up  the  forms  of  doughty 
knights  of  St.  John,  fighting  the  Moslem  hosts  up  and 
down  the  steep  cobbled  streets,  rivers  of  blood  flowing 
between  the  mangled  bodies  of  Christian  and  Turk  to  the 
seashore.  Winding  through  some  of  the  quaint  streets, 
we  came  up  to  an  old  church  with  armorial  bearings  of 
some  renowned  family  over  the  portals.  The  church  is 
now  used  as  a  mosque.  A  wide  stone  stairs  and  platform 
149 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

leads  up  to  the  entrance.  Here  a  band  of  knights  made 
a  desperate  stand  against  the  invaders,  burying  the 
stairs  and  platform  beneath  the  bodies  of  the  slain. 
The  boatman  pointed  to  some  irregular  dark  spots  on 
the  stones  of  the  stairs,  claiming  that  they  are  the  clots 
of  blood  of  the  slain.  But  of  course  that  was  rather 
hard  to  believe. 

Our  steamer  did  not  weigh  anchor  until  the  moon 
had  risen  and  assumed  her  sway  as  the  bright  queen  of 
the  night.  We  sat  in  the  stern,  as  the  boat  turned  the 
bastions  and  towers  of  the  old  fortifications,  watching 
the  lights  of  Rhodes  dwindling  away,  until  at  last  only 
a  solitary  red  light  on  a  cliff-tower  remained  on  the 
widening  waters.  Then  the  light  of  the  moon  grew 
brighter  and  brighter,  the  starry  heaven  spread  its  vast 
arch  over  the  rippling  sea  and  over  the  distant  islands, 
while  the  buoyant  vessel  glided  along  in  the  soft  zephyrs 
of  the  night.  These  are  hours  that  wake  fond  musings 
and  often  recur  to  memory  in  after  life. 

All  forenoon  next  day,  islands  continued  to  rise  and 
sink  from  our  view  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  blue  deep. 
About  mid-day  we  passed  the  island  of  Samos.  The 
large  town,  overtopped  by  a  mountain,  lay  in  the  sunshine 
nestled  at  the  water's  edge.  Samos  is  almost  independ- 
ent of  Turkish  dominion,  on  account  of  the  great  number 
of  Greeks  that  inhabit  it.  The  wine  of  Samos  is  famous 
all  over  the  Orient.  Our  vessel  did  not  touch  at  this 
port,  but  proceeded  to  Chios,  where  we  arrived  at  about 
two  o'clock.  We  landed  with  about  a  dozen  gentlemen 
and  a  few  ladies,  and,  after  strolling  through  some  of 
the  bazaar  streets,  walked  along  the  fine  drive  that 
curves  along  the  beach  around  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
Some  of  the  residences,  though  not  very  large,  were 
extremely  tasteful,  for  the  majority  of  the  70,000  inhabi- 
tants are  Greeks,  and  it  appears,  well-to-do  Greeks. 
The  people  seemed  somewhat  surprised  at  the  large 

150 


CHIOS. 

party  of  strangers  invading  their  town.  Many  a  curious 
lady's  face  peeped  out  behind  the  Venetian  blinds,  to  see 
what  it  all  meant.  The  inhabitants  are  great  lovers  of 
flowers.  Many  had  nosegays  in  their  hands  or  at  their 
breasts;  wreaths  of  flowers  decked  the  doors  and  win- 
dows of  the  houses ;  flowers  bloomed  in  the  gardens  and 
on  the  porches  of  the  houses ;  and  the  air  was  laden  with 
perfume.  Chios  is  a  good-sized  town  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains,  that  rise  a  few  miles  inward.  Ruins  of  the 
earthquake,  which  nearly  destroyed  the  town  in  1881, 
still  line  some  of  the  streets,  though  most  of  the  town  has 
been  rebuilt  in  modern  style. 

While  sitting  in  a  tavern  partaking  of  some  refresh- 
ments, a  number  of  Greeks  gathered  around.  I  tried  to 
scrape  up  from  the  storage  rooms  of  memory,  a  little  of 
the  college  Greek.  Though  the  language  has  not 
changed  so  very  much,  except  in  some  participial  con- 
structions, yet  the  pronunciation  of  the  words  is  so  dif- 
ferent from  college  Greek,  that  they  cannot  be  recog- 
nized. When  we  returned  aboard  ship,  cattle  were  being 
unloaded.  Not  much  ceremony  was  made  with  the 
poor  beasts;  a  chain  was  placed  around  their  horns  in 
the  hold;  a  signal  was  given  to  the  man  at  the  steam 
windlass  and  up  through  the  hatches  they  came,  held  by 
the  horns  in  mid-air.  The  derrick  was  swung  over  the 
bulwark  and  the  struggling  animal  was  lowered  to  a 
scow  below.  These  cattle  being  thus  disposed  of,  our 
steamer  cheerily  resumed  its  way  to  Smyrna.  Again  we 
enjoyed  the  beautiful  moonlight,  the  starry  dome  of 
heaven,  the  calm  sea,  and  the  luxury  of  a  reiterated 
pipe  on  the  stern-deck. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN  SMYRNA  —  ABUSING  THE  PESTERING  TURK  —  ST. 
POLYCARP'S  TOMB  —  THE  OLD  FORT  ON  THE 
MOUNT  —  IN  THE  STREETS  OF  SMYRNA  —  FOOLING 
THE  DOUGANE  —  IN  MARMORA  SEA  —  MYTILENE 
AND  THE  DARDANELLES  —  APPROACHING  CONSTAN- 
TINOPLE—  A  FAIRY  VIEW. 

We  arose  early  in  order  to  see  something  of  the  vast 
and  beautiful  bay,  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  which 
Smyrna  is  situated.  It  is  the  most  important  city  of  the 
Turkish  empire  next  to  Constantinople,  and  contains 
nearly  half  a  million  inhabitants.  The  sun  was  just 
rising  and  only  the  smoke  of  the  large  city  could  as  yet 
be  seen  over  the  prow  of  the  vessel.  High  mountains, 
clothed  in  the  green  of  olive  groves  and  sloping  pastures, 
lined  the  shore  to  our  right.  Two  peaks  called  the 
"Two  Brothers,"  or  "Les  Mamelles"  overtopped  all  the 
rest.  Two  towns  in  the  midst  of  gardens  and  varying 
fields  were  nestled  halfway  up  their  sloping  bases. 
Farther  on  the  large  buildings  of  a  fashionable  bathing 
resort  lay  half  concealed  in  a  mountain  gorge.  The 
shores  of  the  bay  to  our  left  were  low  and  seemed  to  be 
more  adapted  to  commercial  and  manufacturing  pur- 
suits. A  great  deal  of  salt  for  the  government  monopoly 
is  obtained  on  the  sand-beach 

The  first  object  that  is  apt  to  catch  the  eye  on  ap- 
proaching Smyrna  is  the  great  fort,  dating  from  the 
time  when  the  Genoese  had  possession.  It  occupies  the 
brow  of  the  mountain  behind  Smyrna.  The  city  is 
spread  out  below  along  the  sloping  banks.  Half  way 
up  the  hill  a  vast,  dark  area  of  cypress  trees  divided  into 
153 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

two  portions  indicates  the  Turkish  cemetery.  Every 
Mussulman  likes  to  be  buried,  if  possible,  beneath 
the  dark  green  roof  of  the  stately  cypress. 

Our  steamer  dropped  anchor  amid  the  numerous 
other  vessels,  close  in-shore.  A  host  of  boatmen  sur- 
rounded the  vessel  in  order  to  bring  the  passengers  to 
the  custom  house  only  a  hundred  feet  away.  A 
swarthy  Greek  captured  us  two,  and  agreed  to  land  us 
and  bring  us  back  to  the  ship  for  a  stipulated  price.  Our 
good  opinion  of  Turkish  harbor  officials  that  had  grad- 
ually grown  upon  us,  was  doomed  to  rude  destruction. 
Our  passes  had  seemed  in  perfect  order  to  all  those 
whom  we  had  so  far  encountered  in  the  smaller  harbors ; 
now  they  were  closely  scrutinized  and  we  were  detained. 
Mine,  the  superintendent  said,  had  not  been  visaed  in 
Jaffa  and  must  now  be  signed  by  government  officials 
here.  My  companion's  had  not  been  viseed  since  leaving 
America,  and  was  entirely  worthless.  Both  could  be  set 
in  order  only  by  getting  the  signature  of  identification 
from  the  American  consul.  I  would  have  to  pay  three, 
my  companion  eight  medjid,  before  we  could  be  allowed 
to  enter  Smyrna. 

I  wonder  to  this  day  that  the  superintendent  of  the 
custom  police  did  not  arrest  us  on  the  spot  for  the  lively 
row  that  now  ensued  between  us  and  him.  I  know  that 
any  policeman  in  the  United  States  would  not  have  taken 
half  the  abuse  the  Turkish  government  got  that  day.  I 
was  thoroughly  incensed  at  the  unreasonableness  of  the 
demands.  However,  the  Smyrnians  seem  to  allow 
Americans  a  pretty  wide  berth  in  the  kicking  line.  It 
was  not  so  long  ago  that  two  American  cruisers  had 
entered  this  port  to  bombard  the  city,  if  a  certain  indem- 
nity was  not  immediately  forthcoming.  Our  guide 
afterwards  told  us  that  the  indemnity  was  paid,  but  that 
the  business  people  would  have  liked  to  see  the  American 
tars  stay  longer.  Business  had  taken  a  boom  during 

154 


SMYRNA. 

their  presence.  Our  protests  were  not  without  result, 
for  the  superintendent  finally  allowed  us  to  land  on  giv- 
ing guarantees  that  we  would  procure  the  necessary 
signatures  during  the  day. 

The  streets  near  the  water  are  lined  with  great  busi- 
ness houses,  that  is,  great  for  the  country  we  were  in. 
Nothing  of  course  like  those  of  large  American  or  Euro- 
pean cities.  A  mule  tramway  runs  along  the  main  street 
and  terminates  near  the  extensive  barracks  and  military 
grounds.  Bordering  the  latter  is  the  busiest  portion  of 
the  city,  and  the  great  hall  of  justice.  The  open  porti- 
cos on  the  ground  floor  of  the  palace  of  justice  were 
swarming  with  people  and  the  fragrance  of  beautiful 
flower-gardens  which  extend  on  one  side  of  the  building, 
wafted  in  through  the  hallways.  While  our  dragoman 
attended  to  the  necessary  formalities  connected  with  the 
renewal  of  our  passes,  we  sat  in  one  of  the  Turkish  coffee- 
houses opposite.  There  they  sat,  the  ease-loving  Turks, 
in  their  loose  garments,  some  in  lively  conversation  over 
their  strong  coffee,  others  filling  their  lungs  with  the 
smoke  of  costly  nargilehs.  The  Turkish  expression  for 
smoking  is  "to  drink  the  smoke"  and  very  much  like 
drinking  their  mode  of  inhaling  seems  to  be.  They  do 
not  take  short  puffs,  but  they  inhale  the  smoke  into  their 
lungs  as  we  would  inhale  the  air  in  a  long  breath.  On 
little  tables  tiny  cups  of  coffee,  or  glasses  of  the  milky 
raki,  or  some  other  more  cooling  drink  is  served.  In 
Rome  do  as  the  Romans,  so  I  ordered  one  of  the  water- 
pipes  and  the  other  good  things.  The  waiter,  it  seemed, 
wanted  to  please  me,  for  he  brought  the  finest  nargileh 
in  the  establishment.  The  thick  amber  mouthpiece 
was  at  least  six  inches  long,  studded  with  jewels  and 
inlaid  with  silver.  The  same  adornments  were  on  the 
long  hose  and  on  the  joints  at  the  crystal  bowl.  He 
heaped  up  uncut  tobacco  leaves  on  the  silver  top  and 
applied  fire.  But  I  succeeded  but  indifferently  in  keep- 

155 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

ing  the  tobacco  lighted.  In  the  short  time  at  my  disposal 
I  failed  to  see  the  luxury  of  holding  the  thick  mouth- 
piece in  the  mouth  and  drawing  away  at  it  like  an 
asthmatic.  Beggars  and  peddlers  of  all  kinds  made 
their  rounds,  but  every  now  and  then  the  managers 
would  rudely  drive  them  out.  Most  of  the  beggars, 
our  guide  told  us,  were  from  Crete,  where  the  Greeks 
are  much  oppressed  by  their  Turkish  masters  since  the 
last  troubles  of  the  Turkish  empire  with  Greece. 

As  our  guide  had  returned  with  the  required  passes 
it  was  time  to  be  astir.  Our  first  objective  point  was 
the  old  Genoese  fort  on  th  hill.  Along  the  winding 
road  up  the  hill  were  the  extensive  barracks  and  parade 
grounds,  where  Turkish  soldiers  were  drilling.  We  met 
several  guards  on  the  road  who  scrutinized  the  passengers 
for  contraband  goods,  especially  tobacco.  From  the 
top  of  the  crumbling  fortifications  on  the  summit  of  the 
hill  there  is  a  magnificent  view  of  the  widespreading  city 
below,  of  the  blue  bay  and  the  shores  beyond,  and  of  the 
verdant  valleys  and  wooded  mountains  toward  the  in- 
terior. The  fort  itself  is  but  a  ruin.  The  cement  of 
the  wall  is  so  durable  that  it  still  holds  together  in  huge 
blocks.  In  the  center  are  large  excavations,  which  were 
used  as  underground  store-rooms  by  the  garrison.  A 
tunneled  passage  is  said  to  run  ten  miles  underground 
to  the  site  of  ancient  Ephesus. 

We  picked  our  way  down  the  mountain  to  a  place 
where  a  small  building  like  a  monument  had  attracted 
our  attention.  A  green  flag  floated  from  it,  as  also  from 
several  other  places.  They  indicate  the  burying  places 
of  Mohammedan  dervishes  or  persons  considered  saints 
by  the  Mohammedans.  This  particular  monument  is 
venerated  by  the  Mohammedans  as  the  burying-place 
of  St.  Polycarp,  the  disciple  of  St.  John.  It  was  hard 
to  figure  out  what  connection  these  Turks  could  have 
with  St.  Polycarp.  He  was  martyred  here  about  five 

156 


BAZAARS. 

hundred  years  before  their  preposterous  Mahomet  was 
born.  Why  should  they  set  up  a  monument  on  a  spot 
where  he  probably  never  was  buried,  and  claim  it  as 
a  holy  place  ?  But  if  they  really  believed  it  to  be  his 
resting-place,  why  should  they  parade  a  whitewashed, 
crumbling  wall  as  a  befitting  monument  for  so  great  a 
saint?  On  certain  days  the  Moslems  gather  here  and 
offer  sacrifice  of  sheep,  which  is  another  curious  anomaly, 
certainly  not  warranted  by  the  Koran.  That  the  keeper 
was  not  deceiving  us  in  this  regard,  was  evidenced  by  the 
fact  that  the  trees  behind  the  low  structure  were  bespat- 
tered with  clotted  blood. 

After  indulging  in  a  regular  Turkish  dinner,  in  which 
pillau  of  course  figured  prominently,  we  strolled  through 
the  rich  bazaars  of  the  city.  The  silk  and  embroidery 
are  especially  remarkable  in  these  bazaars.  They  are 
covered  by  glass  roofs.  Several  caravans  of  camels 
passed  through  the  narrow  passages,  while  we  sauntered 
through.  The  best  way  to  avoid  a  collision  with  the 
heavily  laden  beasts  is  to  duck  under  their  widespreading 
loads,  for  you  must  not  expect  a  camel,  no  more  than  a 
solid  wall,  to  yield  an  inch.  Get  out  of  the  way,  or  it 
will  walk  over  you. 

We  visited  the  Catholic  church  of  St.  Polycarp  in 
the  heart  of  the  city.  The  front  half  of  the  church  and 
many  of  the  marble  ornaments  date  back  to  the  fourth 
century.  It  has  lately  been  enlarged,  so  that  now  it  con- 
tains three  naves,  most  beautifully  decorated.  The  style 
of  the  interior  is  a  peculiarly  pleasing  mixture  of  the 
Renaissance  and  Byzantine.  One  of  the  fathers  in 
charge  of  the  parish  disbelieved  any  connection  between 
the  Moslem  tomb  and  St.  Polycarp,  except  that  a  very 
unreliable  tradition  indicated  that  neighborhood  as  the 
place  of  his  martyrdom. 

On  getting  aboard  again,  I  found  that  I  had  lost 
one  of  the  books  that  I  had  bought.  Not  wishing  to 
157 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

have  any  more  trouble  with  the  boats,  I  climbed  onto 
a  scow  which  connected  with  the  shore.  This  mode  of 
getting  ashore  was  altogether  against  the  regulations  of 
the  custom  house,  but  none  of  the  guards  noticed  me. 
The  trouble  came  when  I  returned  the  same  way.  Just 
as  I  reached  the  ship's  ladder,  guards  came  rushing 
along  the  shore  shouting  after  me.  As  quickly  as  possi- 
ble I  mounted  over  the  bulwarks  out  of  their  sight.  I 
knew  that  they  could  not  have  gotten  a  full  view  of  me 
in  their  excitement.  Therefore  I  deliberately  carried  a 
steamer  chair  to  the  sterndeck  and  sat  myself  down,  look- 
ing at  them  as  if  then-  shouting  and  running  were  only  a 
matter  of  complacent  curiosity  to  me.  One  of  them 
ventured  to  point  me  out  to  the  rest,  but  as  I  seemed 
only  highly  amused,  he  began  to  doubt  my  identity. 
For  about  fifteen  minutes  the  guards  searched  the  vessel, 
while  I  sat  in  full  view.  They  finally  gave  up  the  search. 
This  was  at  least  some  satisfaction  for  the  trouble  they 
had  caused  me  in  the  morning. 

A  certain  doctor  in  Smyrna  had  alarmed  the  city  by 
claiming  that  he  had  found  a  case  of  bubonic  plague. 
But  as  the  statement  proved  false,  the  wrath  of  the 
inhabitants  was  thoroughly  roused.  They  gathered 
at  his  residence,  and  would  have  mobbed  him  if  the 
police  had  not  made  it  possible  for  him  to  escape  from 
the  city.  Only  a  few  days  later,  however,  the  plague 
did  really  break  out,  and  quarantine  was  enforced  against 
all  vessels  that  touched  there  after  us.  At  about  seven 
o'clock  the  Aphrodite  steamed  out  of  the  spacious  bay 
and  headed  northward  to  the  Dardanelles. 

In  the  morning  the  loud  voice  of  the  captain  roused 
us  from  sleep  in  order  to  undergo  examination  by  the 
doctor.  He  had  come  aboard  from  Mytilene,  where 
our  vessel  lay  anchored.  The  city  was  soon  spread 
out  on  the  sloping  shores  on  both  sides  of  a  headland. 
An  old  fort  occupied  the  summit  of  a  hill,  the  dark  walls 

158 


THE  DARDANELLES. 


of  which  straggled  up  and  down  over  the  declivities. 
At  one  o'clock  we  passed  the  island  of  Tenedos,  of 
Homeric  renown,  and  soon  after  the  plateau-lands  of 
old  Ilion,  or  Troy.  Then  the  narrow  passage  of  the 
Dardanelles  hove  in  sight.  The  shores  of  the  ocean 
approach  each  side  for  two  or  three  miles  like  the 
banks  of  a  river,  though  in  other  places  they  again  recede 
to  form  wide  basins. 

In  the  harbor  of  Renku,  just  before  entering  the  sea 
of  Marmora  or  Hellespont,  we  were  detained  several 
hours  by  custom  officers.  English  steamers  and  tugs 
disported  themselves  in  the  blue  waters  and  the  dazzling 
rays  of  the  sun  were  reflected  from  the  intensely  white 
buildings  of  Renku.  The  vessel  proceeded  very  slowly, 
for  on  the  next  morning  we  were  still  in  the  sea  of  Mar- 
mora. The  lead-colored  waters  of  Marmora  stretched 
away  to  the  dim  and  hazy  shores  on  both  sides,  until  San 
Stefano  and  Makriki  appeared  on  the  low  banks  to  the 
left.  These  towns  are  only  some  eighteen  miles  from 
Constantinople.  The  Russian  army  had  advanced  to 
this  neighborhood  in  the  last  Turkish  war  of  1878, 
when  England  and  the  other  powers  interfered  to  save 
the  Sick  Man  of  the  East.  To  the  right  of  us  the  islands 
of  Pinte,  Antigone,  Chalkis,  and  Principe,  famous 
pleasure  resorts  for  the  inhabitants  of  Constantinople, 
rose  out  of  the  sea.  Behind  them  the  Asiatic  Olympus 
gleamed  in  perpetual  snows. 

On  entering  the  Bosphorus  we  were  of  course  on 
the  lookout  for  the  first  view  of  Constantinople.  All 
travelers  agree  that  the  view  of  the  city  from  the  en- 
trance of  the  Bosphorus  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
sights  to  be  seen  anywhere.  Unfortunately  the  atmos- 
phere was  filled  with  haziness  and  the  heavens  were 
covered  with  rain-clouds;  on  this  account  we  lost 
much  of  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  Yet  even  so  the  view 
was  beautiful.  As  the  ship  rounded  the  four  islands, 

159 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  city  began  to  rise  over  the  waters  like  a  fairy  creation. 
The  countless  towers  and  minarets,  St.  Sophia  and  the 
old  palaces  of  Stambul ;  then  the  branch  waters  of  the 
Bosphorus,  and  the  Golden  Horn  passed  in  view.  Soon 
also  appeared  the  tower  of  Galata,  and  back  of  it  the  buil- 
dings of  Pera  overlooking  the  Golden  Horn  and  the  older 
Istambul.  As  the  vessel  skimmed  along  the  narrowing 
channel  of  the  Bosphorus,  both  these  divisions  of  the  city 
unfolded  themselves  more  and  more,  while  to  the  right 
the  green  heights  of  Bulgourlu  and  the  suburbs  on  the 
Asiatic  shore  glided  into  view.  Farther  on  some  of  the 
great  white  palaces  and  old  castles  line  both  sides  of  the 
magnificent  Bosphorus.  The  distant  mountains  cut  off 
the  view  of  the  Black  sea. 


160 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CUSTOM  HOUSE  AMENITIES  —  DANCING  DERVISHES  — 
ON  THE  GOLDEN  HORN  —  PERVERSITY  IN  GRAY 
HAIRS  —  TURKISH  HAREMS  TURNED  LOOSE  — 
RAINBOUND  —  GALATA  AND  PERA  —  THE  UBIQUI- 
TOUS DOG  —  NOCTURNAL  HARMONY. 

Our  ship  dropped  anchor  opposite  Galata,  the 
Genoese  addition  to  Stambul.  A  host  of  small  boats 
soon  encircled  the  vessel  to  wait  for  passengers.  Most 
of  them  had  followed  us  for  an  hour  or  more.  Naturally 
we  were  anxious  to  get  ashore.  But  we  were  in  Turkish 
territory,  where  time  seems  to  be  of  no  value.  We 
waited  several  hours  for  the  laggard  doctors  in  order  to 
undergo  the  insignificant  examination  for  quarantine. 
It  was  long  past  noon  when  we  were  finally  permitted 
to  consign  ourselves  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  ravenous 
boatmen,  runners,  and  custom  officials.  The  latter 
marauders,  failing  to  see  us  offer  a  sufficient  bakshish, 
retained  the  fragment  of  a  Greek  bible  and  some 
Baedeckers  from  our  baggage.  They  gave  us  to  under- 
stand that  these  books  must  be  examined  lest  they  contain 
anything  derogatory  to  the  Turkish  government.  We 
took  our  lodgings  at  Hotel  Kroeker  on  Pera  Hill,  whence 
we  had  a  splendid  view  of  old  Stambul  from  our  third- 
story  window. 

At  dinner  a  gray-haired  man,  who  had  just  arrived 
from  Bohemia,  was  volubly  talking  to  any  and  every 
one,  evidently  considering  himself  a  man  who  had  seen 
something  of  the  world  and  was  entitled  to  be  heard. 
In  our  presence  he  unspun  all  his  plans  for  his  three 
weeks'  stay  to  Philips,  our  guide.  "The  first  thing  we 
161 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

must  do  to-day,"  he  said,  "is  to  make  the  trip  up  the 
Golden  Horn,"  for  on  Friday  (which  it  happened  to  be 
that  day)  all  the  beauties  of  the  harems  would  be  gathered 
on  its  banks.  Philips  had  already  made  engagements  to 
that  effect  with  him.  However,  as  the  dancing  dervishes 
were  to  have  their  weekly  performance  in  a  mosque  not 
far  off,  we  left  the  eccentric  Bohemian  to  his  own  volu- 
bility for  the  present  and  betook  ourselves  to  that  place. 
It  was  an  octagonal  building,  the  center  of  which 
was  portioned  off  by  a  circular  railing  as  a  dancing 
floor.  Already  the  other  space  between  the  walls  and 
railing  was  filled  with  spectators.  At  the  head  of 
the  dancing  floor  there  was  an  opening  in  the  railing, 
behind  which  some  distinguished  Turks  in  rich  uni- 
forms were  sitting.  Along  the  circular  railing  on 
the  dancing  floor,  in  groups  of  three  and  with  bowed 
heads,  sat  the  dervishes.  They  wore  gray  caps,  some- 
thing like  stovepipes  without  rims,  and  were  dressed  in 
plaited  petticoats.  From  the  gallery  were  heard  the 
muffled  sounds  of  kettle-drums  and  squeaking  instru- 
ments. Presently  these  sounds  were  augmented  by  a 
howling  song.  Thereupon  the  dervishes  began  to  raise 
their  heads  as  if  awakened  from  a  trance.  They  got 
on  their  feet  and  began  to  walk  around,  making  a  low 
bow  whenever  they  passed  a  green-mantled  Turk,  at 
the  opening  of  the  railing.  After  the  second  round  they 
began  to  whirl  around  like  tops,  using  one  foot  as  a  pivot. 
Faster  and  faster  they  whirled,  more  and  more  unearthly 
screeched  and  rumbled  the  music  above.  The  der- 
vishes began  to  stretch  out  their  arms,  holding  one  palm 
upward,  the  other  downward,  head  and  eyes  turned 
heavenward.  Their  loose  gowns  began  to  spread  out 
centrifugally,  so  that  they  looked  like  weird  witches  in 
immense  hoopskirts.  The  din  above  was  now  and 
then  interrupted  by  a  loud  wail,  while  the  green-man- 
tled overseer  cast  an  eye  of  disapproval  on  the  laggards 

162 


DANCING  DERVISHES. 


to  urge  them  to  greater  celerity.  So  these  bony,  fantastic 
forms,  some  young,  some  old,  kept  whirling  around 
on  their  one  foot  and  moving  around  the  circle  for 
half  an  hour. 

It  seemed  most  senseless  to  the  beholder.  They, 
however,  imagine  that  they  are  engaged  in  the  highest 
kind  of  prayer,  and  in  a  total  abandonment  in  the  hands 
of  Allah.  But  as  far  as  outward  appearance  is  con- 
cerned, it  would  be  hard  to  find  more  repulsive  features 
on  the  streets  of  Constantinople.  We  left  before  they  had 
ceased  their  whirling,  in  order  to  make  our  excursion  to 
the  sweet  waters  of  Europe,  or  the  Golden  Horn 

Worshek,  the  Bohemian,  meanwhile  had  gotten  him- 
self ready,  and  we  soon  arrived  at  the  old  bridge  and  in- 
stalled ourselves  in  one  of  the  river-ferries.  They  ply  in 
all  directions  and  serve  as  the  principal  means  of  com- 
munication between  the  different  parts  of  the  city.  Our 
gray-haired  companion  drew  upon  himself  the  attention 
of  the  motley  crowds  on  the  steamer  by  his  loud  and  con- 
ceited remarks.  He  was  a  regular  coxcomb  in  spite  of 
his  gray  hair,  babbling  about  the  charms  of  the  women 
around  him  and  wishing  they  would  only  raise  their 
veils.  When  I  used  the  word  "  harem,"  he  warned  me 
not  to  use  that  word  again.  If  any  Turks  would  hear 
that  word,  we  would  certainly  be  mobbed.  The  old 
man  remembered  having  read  this  in  some  antediluvian 
guidebook.  Of  course  we  could  but  laugh  at  the  vain 
fears  of  our  lively  companion. 

Having  swiftly  passed  up  the  Golden  Horn  between 
old  Stambul  on  the  left  and  Pera  on  the  right,  we  disem- 
barked in  order  to  make  the  rest  of  the  way  in  one  of  the 
graceful  boats  which  can  be  rented  on  the  banks.  They 
are  manned  by  dexterous  oarsmen.  The  Golden  Horn 
soon  narrows  to  a  medium-sized  stream,  for  it  is  nothing 
else  than  a  brook,  which  comes  down  from  the  moun- 
tains on  the  European  side,  and  which  has  been  widened 

163 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

out  to  a  distance  of  about  three  miles  from  Constanti- 
nople. Its  banks  have  been  turned  into  gardens  and 
pleasant  lawns  for  public  pleasure-grounds.  At  the  foot 
of  the  hills  there  are  some  villages  belonging  to  the 
Sultan's  family.  Thousands  of  boats,  gaily  decorated, 
some  large,  others  small,  swarmed  in  the  narrowing 
channel. 

Along  the  banks  were  men  and  women  of  all  ages  and 
conditions,  in  all  sorts  of  dress.  The  Turkish  women, 
either  by  themselves  or  accompanied  by  the  men,  moved 
about  or  sat  on  the  grass  or  under  leafy  bowers.  Nearly 
all  wore  veils,  occasionally  drawn  up  and  allowing 
glimpses  of  their  features,  they  themselves  casting  sly 
looks  at  the  passers-by.  Our  old  Bohemian  hotspur 
stared  at  the  women,  calling  them  beauties  and  making 
other  loud  remarks  about  them.  I  myself  could  see 
nothing  particularly  charming  about  their  depressed  and 
pale  faces.  They  looked  to  me  more  like  despairing 
invalids,  out  for  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  The  women  of 
Europe  and  America  do  not  know  what  a  sad  life  four- 
fifths  of  their  sex  live  in  heathen  and  Mohammedan 
countries.  They  are  the  mere  toys  or  slaves  of  the 
brutalized  men.  In  Christian  countries  woman  is 
regarded  as  the  equal,  and  in  some  respects,  as  the 
superior  of  man,  as  long  as  she  knows  how  to  keep 
her  place.  Through  the  Mother  of  Christ  she  has  been 
raised  from  her  position  of  slavery,  to  the  level  of  man. 
Through  Her  alone  she  has  regained  some  of  the 
charms  of  the  original  Eve,  whereby  she  reigns  over  the 
heart  of  the  sterner  sex.  The  "new  woman"  is  on  a 
fair  way  to  return  to  the  position  of  her  sisters  in  the 
Orient. 

When  we  had  rowed  up  the  Golden  Horn  about  half 
the  distance,  rain  seemed  imminent  and  most  of  the  count- 
less boats  were  pushing  homeward.  Among  them  were 
also  some  large  barges,  with  fifty  or  sixty  persons,  who 

169 


ON  THE  GOLDEN  HORN. 


had  rowed  up  from  the  Black  Sea.  On  one  of  these  a 
negro  was  dancing  and  singing  for  the  amusement  of  the 
crowd.  At  the  end  of  the  Sweet  Waters  we  alighted  and 
took  some  lemonade  in  a  summerhouse  built  of  leafy 
branches  of  trees.  Several  carriages  passed  us  with 
members  of  the  Sultan's  household.  On  our  return  it 
began  to  rain,  but  there  was  still  a  great  number  of  boats 
with  merry  passengers.  The  Turkish  soldiers  and 
officers  made  themselves  especially  noticeable,  as  is 
soldier  fashion  all  over  Europe  when  ladies  are  present. 
The  shower  did  not  last  long  and  behind  us  the  sun  again 
broke  through  the  rain-clouds.  As  we  approached  Stam- 
bul  and  Pera  the  bright  yellow  light  of  the  evening 
flashed  from  the  windows  of  the  old  palaces  and  buildings 
on  the  terraced  hillside,  and  made  the  city  seem  a  world 
of  fire. 

Old  Worshek  had  kept  up  his  incessant  babbling 
and  now  took  me  to  task,  because  I  had  said  I  would 
not  be  ready  for  a  start  in  the  morning,  until  I  had  trans- 
acted my  business  at  a  certain  church.  This  started 
him  off  on  religion,  and  he  asked  me,  whether  I  was  still 
so  benighted  as  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  God. 
Nowadays,  he  said,  not  one  in  a  hundred  persons  could 
be  found  in  Europe,  that  still  believed  in  a  personal  God. 
Of  course  we  all  laughed  heartily  at  the  absurdity  of  his 
assertion.  We  had  just  come  from  Jerusalem,  where 
five  hundred  of  his  countrymen  had  made  the  pilgrimage 
to  the  grave  of  the  Godman.  I  asked  him  how  it  came, 
that  he  himself  was  continually  using  the  name  of  God 
in  his  conversation.  "  O,  that  is  only  a  habit,"  he  said. 
His  brother,  he  said,  was  one  of  those  fools,  that  still 
practice  the  religion  which  his  parents  had  instilled  into 
them  in  their  youth;  he  himself  was  more  enlightened. 
Philips,  the  guide,  and  even  the  Turkish  boatman  when 
he  came  to  understand  what  our  conversation  was 
about,  could  not  repress  their  disgust  at  the  vagaries  of 
165 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  gray-haired  infidel.  He  was  getting  quite  angry,  for 
he  saw  that  none  of  his  arguments  had  a  ghost  of  a  show 
in  the  company,  and  that  he  was  making  a  laughing-stock 
of  himself.  Rising  up  in  the  boat  and  clenching  his 
fist  toward  heaven,  he  defied  the  Almighty  to  strike  him 
dead,  and  he  gave  me  leave  to  call  down  upon  him  the 
thunderbolts  of  heaven.  I  asked  him  whether  his  ex- 
citement was  not  a  new  proof,  that  in  his  heart  he  be- 
lieved in  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  whether  it  was  not 
evidently  a  vain  attempt  to  suppress  the  secret  dread  of 
an  outraged  deity  in  his  heart  ?  Perhaps  before  he  would 
get  back  to  Bohemia,  he  would  find  out  how  well  ground- 
ed his  fears  were.  It  was  certainly  a  disgusting  sight  to 
see  an  old  man  disporting  himself  in  such  a  manner. 

From  some  remark  that  I  made  after  we  had  landed, 
he  learnt  that  I  was  one  of  the  "brood  of  Catholic 
priests,"  as  he  called  them  on  the  boat.  He  was  quite 
taken  aback,  when  he  saw  that  he  had  been  talking  to  a 
Catholic  priest  all  the  while,  and  it  seemed  he  was  some- 
what ashamed  of  himself.  I  told  him  to  be  at  ease,  for 
I  had  met  people  of  his  stamp  before,  and  I  knew  how  to 
condole  with  them.  The  poor  man  had  very  likely 
associated  only  with  the  ignorant  riff-raff  of  humanity, 
that  tries  to  conceal  their  inward  dread  of  punishment  by 
their  malicious  ranting  against  the  existence  of  God. 
This  time  at  least  he  had  met  some  one  ready  to  con- 
tradict his  blasphemies  with  a  violence  equal  to  his  own, 
and  found  that  his  arguments  brought  him  nothing  but 
ridicule.  At  supper  the  insuppressible  old  man  monop- 
olized the  conversation  of  the  whole  dining-room,  and, 
having  bluffed  the  rest  of  the  party  into  silence,  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  me  across  the  table.  He  made  some 
slighting  remarks  concerning  the  United  States.  I  asked 
him  on  what  authority  he  made  the  statements,  he  an- 
swered that  he  had  "heard  it  said."  I  asked  him  point- 
edly, whether  he  knew  nothing  about  that  country,  except 

166 


GALATA. 

what  "was  said,"  which  made  him  subside  like  the 
froth  on  the  tip  of  a  wave.  He  steered  shy  of  me  during 
the  rest  of  our  stay  at  hotel  Kroeker. 

The  next  day  was  the  first  really  rainy  day  which  we 
experienced  on  our  trip  since  we  left  Manila.  The  streets 
were  not  in  a  fit  condition  to  do  much  sight-seeing.  We 
managed,  however,  to  find  the  nearest  Catholic  church, 
that  of  St.  Anthony,  in  charge  of  the  Italian  Franciscans. 
Rev.  Othmar  Blanchard,  a  Swiss  father,  treated  us  very 
kindly.  In  the  afternoon  during  a  pause  in  the  rain  we 
strolled  along  the  main  street  running  up  from  Galata 
through  Pera.  It  presents  an  appearance  quite  Euro- 
pean, fine  stores  and  other  buildings  lining  it  on  both 
sides.  But  it  is  a  very  narrow  part  of  the  way  and  the 
sidewalks  are  mostly  stone  paths,  not  by  far  wide  enough 
for  the  great  number  of  passengers.  It  is  traversed  by 
narrow  and  rickety  horse-cars,  on  which  the  charges  are 
in  inverse  proportion  to  the  convenience  afforded.  My 
criticisms  in  that  regard  were  listened  to  with  evident 
satisfaction  by  the  passengers  who  rode  down  to  Galata 
with  us;  yet  they  seemed  cautious  in  their  answers.  I 
afterwards  found  out,  that  it  is  not  at  all  safe  for  anyone 
to  criticise  under  the  rule  of  Abdul  Hamid,  especially 
not  for  any  of  the  inhabitants.  I  often  noticed,  that  they 
eyed  me  with  suspicion  and  cast  cautious  glances  around 
on  the  by-standers,  when  I  launched  out  in  criticism. 
No  one  is  sure,  whether  government  spies  are  not  hover- 
ing around  to  catch  a  treasonous  word  in  order  to  bring 
it  to  headquarters. 

Leaving  the  cars  near  the  Galata  strand,  we  strolled 
up  and  down  some  of  the  busiest  streets.  This  part  of 
Constantinople  dates  back  to  the  time  of  the  Genoese  in 
the  thirteenth  century.  When  the  Moslems  took  Stam- 
bul  from  them,  the  Genoese  were  allowed  to  settle  out- 
side the  old  walls  across  the  Golden  Horn.  Quite  a 
number  of  Christians  gathered  here  in  course  of  time, 
167 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  they  built  a  tower  on  the  summit  of  the  hill  for  pur- 
poses of  defense.  This  tower  is  now  used  for  a  watch- 
tower  of  the  fire  department.  Between  this  tower  and 
the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus  are  many  ruinous  and  nar- 
row lanes,  some  of  them  having  no  outlet.  Here  the 
sailors  and  beggars  and  the  more  villainous  portion  of 
the  population  have  their  haunts  and  pursue  their  secret 
or  boisterous  vocations  and  carousals.  It  is  no  doubt 
an  unsavory  neighborhood  for  the  stranger,  and  it  is  not 
provided  with  any  superfluous  illumination.  There 
were  numerous  resorts  for  pleasure  or  for  drink  in  the 
by-ways  and  lanes,  all  well  frequented.  Nearer  to  the 
water  and  towards  the  bridge,  the  streets  are  crowded 
with  people  of  all  nations  and  all  conditions,  from  the 
ragged  Turk  or  Kurd  hamal  to  the  rich  merchant  with 
gaudy  turban  or  red  fez  and  wide  pantaloons;  the 
swarthy  Arab  or  armed  Cherkese  mingles  with  the  swell 
Armenian  or  sight-hunting  European  traveler. 

Of  course  we  soon  became  acquainted  with  the  real 
street-owners  of  Constantinople.  They  enjoy  great 
privileges  without  paying  any  taxes.  Theirs  is  the  right 
of  way,  respected  even  by  the  street-car  monopoly.  Be- 
sides, they  have  a  first  lien  on  all  perquisites  for  sustain- 
ing life,  that  may  be  found  on  the  streets.  I  refer  to  the 
dogs  of  Constantinople :  a  wolfish,  longtailed,  blear-eyed 
progeny,  covered  with  dirty  gray  or  brownish  bristling 
hair  and  occupying,  singly  or  in  packs,  the  walks,  the 
gutters,  and  cobble-pavements  of  the  streets.  No  genuine 
native  of  the  city  would  think  of  disturbing  the  beasts  as 
they  lie  in  his  way.  Much  less  would  any  of  these  four- 
legged  lords  of  the  streets  make  an  offer  to  get  up  for  any 
biped,  man  or  woman,  that  might  have  occasion  to  use 
the  path.  Carts  or  carriages  must  make  a  detour  for 
their  litters  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  street.  Each 
neighborhood  is  in  possession  of  a  certain  breed  of  dogs, 
who  will  quickly  tear  to  pieces  any  dog  from  another 

168 


THE  DOGS. 

quarter,  that  may  stray  among  them.  Not  unfrequently 
a  dozen  curs  could  be  seen  scouring  across  a  square 
furiously  pursuing  a  luckless  canine,  whom  hunger  or 
love-making  had  induced  to  leave  the  territory  in  which 
he  first  saw  the  light  of  day.  Now  and  then  a  loud 
snarling  resounded,  where  a  group  of  dogs  of  the  same 
territory  fell  to  quarreling  over  some  castaway  bone  or 
other  garbage.  They  are  the  scavengers  of  Constanti- 
nople, which  in  a  measure  might  explain  the  privileges 
they  enjoy.  As  it  had  rained  on  this  day,  they  had  as- 
sumed special  rights  over  any  dry  spot  on  the  pavement 
or  narrow  walks.  The  foot-passengers  therefore  were 
not  unfrequently  obliged  to  step  into  the  mud  of  the  gutter 
in  order  to  pass  around  the  festive  canines.  One  of 
them  had  installed  herself  with  a  litter  of  some  nine  half- 
blind  pups  in  a  box  on  the  middle  of  the  walk.  Another 
was  fondly  licking  a  couple  of  her  progeny  on  the  stone 
sill  of  a  palatial  building.  No  one  thought  of  driving 
them  out  of  the  way,  and  some  of  them  snarled  viciously 
at  passengers  who  dared  to  come  too  near  in  passing. 

Our  objective  point  had  been  the  douane  or  custom- 
house, where  we  wanted  to  make  inquiries  about  the 
books  which  had  been  detained  the  day  before.  For 
some  time  we  were  unable  to  find  an  outlet  in  the  maze  of 
streets  of  Galata,  but  when  we  finally  reached  the  douane, 
they  told  us  that  our  books  had  not  yet  been  examined 
and  we  must  wait.  It  had  in  the  meanwhile  begun  to 
grow  dusk  and  to  rain,  so  our  walk  up  the  hill  was  not  of 
the  pleasantest.  However,  we  reached  hotel  Kroeker 
without  sustaining  any  other  harm  than  the  rain  could 
do  us.  This  we  soon  forgot  at  the  supper-table  and  in 
our  room  upstairs. 

The  rain  kept  up  its  incessant  splash  on  the  sill  of  the 
open  window  during  the  night.  Adjoining  the  hotel  were 
the  remains  of  a  large  cypress  grove,  which  formerly 
served  as  a  Mohammedan  cemetery.  Streets  had  been 

169 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

cut  through  it,  many  of  the  trees  had  disappeared,  and 
business  houses  had  invaded  the  abode  of  the  dead.  On 
some  other  night,  as  we  sat  at  the  open  window,  the 
wonderful  harmony  of  a  song  reached  our  ears.  It  came 
from  a  party  of  Greeks,  who  were  passing  through  this 
cemetery.  Faintly  at  first  from  the  distance  the  four- 
voiced  song  trembled  through  the  night  air,  then  louder 
and  louder  as  they  approached,  dying  away  again,  as 
they  passed  down  toward  the  water.  Very  often  during 
the  night,  peculiarly  sharp  thuds  sounded  up  from  the 
streets.  The  night-watchmen  thump  the  pavement 
with  their  ironclad  staffs  as  they  make  their  rounds. 
A  fine  arrangement  for  the  thieves  and  crooks:  they 
could  calculate  to  a  minute,  how  long  they  might  con- 
tinue in  any  incident  night-job,  before  the  watchman 
would  be  close  enough  to  interfere.  What  matters  a 
small  intermission?  The  receding  thumps  of  the  staff 
would  soon  indicate  the  peaceful  passage  of  the  watch- 
man, and  they  could  resume  their  work.  I  think  our 
policemen  could  learn  a  trick  or  two  from  these  night- 
watchmen  in  Constantinople ;  they  could  learn  to  make 
their  rounds  in  dangerous  places  without  fear  of  en- 
countering any  member  of  the  fraternity  of  night- workers. 


170 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

MASS  IN  ISTAMBUL  —  OVER  THE  SWARMING  BRIDGE 
—  AGIA  SOPHIA  —  OLD  REMNANTS  —  STAMBUL 
SCENES  —  To  SKUTARI  —  SPLENDID  VIEW  — 
ABOUT  ARMENIAN  MASSACRES  —  ON  HORSEBACK 
OVER  THE  HILLS  —  SUNSET  ON  THE  BOSPHORUS  — 
BLACK  AND  ROARING  WATERS  —  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT 
NOTHING  —  OVER  RUINED  WALLS. 

I  had  been  invited  by  Father  Blanchard  to  say  mass 
at  eight  o'clock  on  Sunday.  It  is  the  glorious  privilege 
of  the  Catholic  traveler  to  be  able  to  attend  the  same 
kind  of  worship  that  he  has  been  accustomed  to  since 
his  childhood,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  though  he  may 
be  ten  thousand  miles  from  home.  He  begins  to  under- 
stand, that  he  belongs  truly  to  the  one  universal  and 
unchangeable  church,  unchangeable  by  time  or  place. 
In  the  midst  of  Mohammedanism  we  could  kneel  and 
join  in  the  same  glorious  homage  of  the  Savior  and  in  the 
same  consoling  veneration  of  the  Queen  of  Heaven. 
Here  and  in  many  French  and  Italian  churches  I  saw 
some  men  of  the  congregation  during  service  kneeling 
and  receiving  Holy  Communion  in  the  sanctuary,  while 
the  women  received  it  at  the  communion  railing. 

Generally  there  are  very  few  seats  in  European 
churches;  the  congregation  kneel  or  stand  promiscu- 
ously on  the  stone  pavement.  On  examining  the  reg- 
ister of  the  Sacristy  I  found  the  name  of  Rev.  Heuser, 
editor  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Review,  and  also  the  names 
of  the  priests  of  the  German  caravan  to  Jerusalem. 

After  breakfast  we  went  to  get  a  good  view  of  Con- 
stantinople from  the  Galata  tower.  A  circular  stairs 
171 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

leads  round  the  massive  walls  to  the  height  of  about 
fifty  meters.  Six  centuries  of  wear  have  hollowed  out 
the  two  hundred  steps  that  lead  to  the  top.  From  its 
tin-covered  roof  we  could  survey  the  whole  surrounding : 
St.  Sophia  and  the  other  great  mosques,  the  arches  of  the 
ancient  aqueduct  more  than  a  thousand  years  old,  the 
remains  of  the  city  walls,  winding  around  the  old  city 
from  the  Golden  Horn  to  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  The  obe- 
lisk, dating  back  to  Roman  times,  and  the  Seraskian  tower 
overtop  the  sea  of  buildings  in  the  middle  of  old  Stam- 
bul.  To  the  south,  across  the  Bosphorus,  Skutari,  Bul- 
gourlu  hill,  and  several  other  suburbs  lined  the  shore, 
while  the  Asiatic  Olympus  gleamed  over  the  Princess 
islands.  The  morning  sun  had  driven  off  the  rain-clouds 
of  the  previous  day  and  brightly  shone  over  all  the  varied 
panorama. 

The  old  bridge,  connecting  Galata  with  Stambul,  is 
only  a  ramshackle  wooden  affair  resting  on  pontoons, 
but  it  is  a  goldmine  for  the  Sultan.  They  do  not  bother 
the  passengers  with  tickets;  six  or  seven  collectors  on 
each  end  stand  in  a  row  across  the  roadway  collecting 
the  metaliques  from  the  crowds  as  they  pass.  You  pay 
your  cash  and  pass  over  or  stay  on  the  bridge  all  day,  if 
you  like.  It  is  quite  worth  while  lingering,  for  there  is 
probably  no  place  in  the  world,  where  so  many  and  so 
varied  kinds  of  people  pass  within  a  given  time,  as  on  this 
bridge.  What  a  vast  variety  of  physiognomies  even  in 
one  hour!  It  seems  as  if  all  the  nations  of  the  world  had 
appointed  this  their  meeting-place  on  the  confines  of 
Europe  and  Asia. 

Omitting  a  visit  to  the  mausoleum  Valide  at  the  other 
end  of  the  bridge,  we  entered  on  the  Serai  or  old  palace 
grounds  of  Constantinople.  The  palaces  are  mostly  in 
ruins,  but  the  grounds  are  laid  out  in  drives  and  patches 
of  park.  A  plantain  tree,  dating  back  to  remote  times, 
measures  thirty-five  feet  in  circumference  at  a  man's 

172 


ST.  SOPHIA. 

height.  Under  it,  in  times  gone  by,  many  a  squad  of 
Janizaries  have  lain,  opposite  the  gate  of  death,  where 
their  clamor  for  the  heads  of  obnoxious  pashas  rose 
up  to  the  windows  of  the  Sultan's  palace.  And  here 
they  dispatched  many  a  victim  of  their  resentment  as 
soon  as  the  Sultan  had  yielded  to  their  clamors  and  sent 
them  their  victims  through  the  old  portals  of  the  Serai. 
Passing  under  this  gate  of  death,  we  stood  in  sight  of  the 
great  mosque  St.  Sophia.  Exteriorly  it  looks  like  a 
conglomeration  of  smaller  buildings  and  additions 
surmounted  by  a  vast  cupola.  During  the  Moslem 
occupation  additions  have  been  made  to  the  great 
church  without  any  regard  for  taste  or  architecture,  so 
that  any  architectural  beauty  of  the  outside,  if  there  was 
any  originally,  is  completely  hidden.  Justinian,  who 
completed  it,  would  scarcely  recognize  it,  if  he  were  to 
come  upon  it  of  a  sudden. 

Passing  by  the  main  portal,  which  is  reserved  solely 
for  the  Sultan,  we  came  through  a  narrow  street  to  the 
front,  where  a  vast  carved  door  gave  entrance  to  an 
arched  hall  or  atrium.  From  this  hall  several  entrances 
open  into  the  main  body  of  the  mosque.  The  Turks  will 
not  neglect  this  chance  of  collecting  bakshish  from  the 
stranger.  Any  giaour,  that  wants  to  inspect  the  mosque, 
must  pay  a  medjid,  equal  to  one  dollar.  The  corridor 
or  vestibule  is  richly  decorated  with  mosaics  and  the  great 
doors  are  of  carved  bronze.  Before  entering  the  mosque 
proper  a  Turk  will  intercept  you  and  require  you  to  put 
on  slippers  or  take  off  your  shoes.  Inside,  the  vast 
dome  rises  magnificently  on  four  marble  columns. 
These  columns  are  spanned  by  four  immense  arches 
which  support  the  lower  base  of  the  cupola.  So  correct 
is  the  proportion  that  at  first  one  does  not  realize  the 
dimensions  of  the  great  dome.  The  substructure,  above 
which  this  vast  cupola  rises,  is  the  form  of  a  cross  and 
about  270  feet  wide.  A  gallery  50  feet  wide  runs  around 
173 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

three  sides  behind  the  marble  pillars,  which  support  the 
dome.  The  whole  vast  surface  of  the  dome  and  of  the 
walls  down  to  a  certain  height,  was  formerly  of  rich 
mosaics,  but  now  is  daubed  with  tasteless  stencil  ara- 
besques in  yellow,  black,  or  blue  colors.  In  many  of  the 
fields  the  mosaic  images  of  the  saints  and  of  the  Savior, 
that  adorned  the  church  in  Christian  times,  still  appear 
in  outline  behind  the  Moslem  daubing. 

The  whole  area  of  the  mosque  is  bare  of  furniture 
except  the  mihrab  and  two  huge  wax  candlesticks. 
Around  some  of  the  pillars  were  railings,  within  which 
dervishes  were  reciting  the  Koran  in  loud  monotonous 
voices.  One  little  chap  was  all  alone  within  one  of  these 
railings,  swinging  to  and  fro  on  his  knees  in  his  efforts  to 
get  the  Koran  by  heart.  To  the  left  of  the  mihrab,  a  black 
stone  slab  was  immured  into  the  wall :  this  is  a  piece 
of  the  Kaaba  at  Mecca  and  is  held  most  sacred  by  the 
Moslems.  Many  pious  Turks  make  pilgrimages  to  this 
stone  instead  of  going  to  Mecca.  Under  the  galleries  are 
spacious  porticos  or  halls,  supported  by  pillars  of  rare 
stone.  The  larger  of  these  pillars,  supporting  the  prin- 
cipal arches  of  the  halls,  are  spoils  from  renowned  build- 
ings of  ancient  times.  The  vaulted  ceilings  of  the  por- 
ticos are  beautifully  mosaicked. 

Though  the  Agia  Sophia  was  founded  by  Constantine, 
Justinian,  two  hundred  years  later,  is  its  rebuilder  and 
completer.  It  is  therefore  nearly  fourteen  hundred  years 
old.  In  1452  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Moham- 
medans. On  one  of  the  great  columns  near  the  western 
entrance,  at  a  height  of  about  fifteen  feet,  is  seen  a  daub 
of  red  color.  The  Turks  believe  that  it  is  the  impress 
of  the  hand  of  Mahomet  II  on  the  day  of  his  victo- 
rious entrance.  The  last  refuge  of  the  defenders  of  the 
city  was  St.  Sophia.  Around  this  pillar  were  piled  the 
bodies  of  the  slain  ten  feet  high.  When  all  the  Christians 
had  been  slain,  Mahomet  climbed  on  top  of  this  heap  of 

174 


MOSQUES. 

dead  and  laid  his  gory  hand  against  this  pillar  in  sign  of 
victory.  No  amount  of  paint,  according  to  Moslem 
belief,  will  wipe  out  this  stain.  St.  Sophia  did  not  strike 
me  as  the  great  wonder  it  is  claimed  to  be.  The  dome 
of  St.  Peter  in  Rome  is  193  feet  in  diameter  and  448  feet 
high,  while  that  of  St.  Sophia  is  only  107  feet  across  and 
183  high.  Of  course  the  fact,  that  the  Turks  have  so 
miserably  disfigured  the  interior  by  their  daubing,  and 
the  fact,  that  the  building  is  misused  for  a  mosque  rather 
than  for  its  original  purpose  as  a  Christian  church,  must 
be  taken  into  consideration. 

Not  far  from  Agia  Sophia  is  the  ancient  hippodrome, 
or  rather  the  remains  of  it ;  namely,  the  bronze  serpentine 
pillar,  broken  at  half  its  length,  the  carved  obelisk,  and 
traces  of  the  race  course.  Many  a  gay  scene,  no  doubt, 
was  here  witnessed  in  the  times  of  the  Roman  emperors 
of  the  East.  Nearby  is  the  Janizar  museum,  containing 
life-size  wax  figures  of  army  and  court  officials,  dressed 
in  the  uniforms  used  during  the  centuries  of  Turkish 
domination.  The  Ahmet  mosque  is  an  imitation  of  St. 
Sophia,  with  a  larger  dome.  Its  interior  is  covered 
with  white  and  blue  tile,  making  it  look  still  more  bare 
and  cold  than  that  of  St.  Sophia.  Of  the  many  mauso- 
leums of  Constantinople,  that  of  Hamid  Assis  is  the 
most  remarkable.  The  members  of  the  Sultan's  family 
are  here  buried  under  sarcophagi,  covered  with  black 
velvet  palls,  richly  embroidered.  Costly  memorials  from 
the  sovereigns  of  Europe  are  placed  around  in  the  same 
apartment,  among  them  two  heavy  candlesticks  from 
Queen  Victoria,  and  a  magnificent  golden  clock  from  the 
emperor  of  France.  On  silver  stands  are  copies  of 
the  Koran  written  by  the  Sultans;  that  of  Haroun  al 
Rashid  being  especially  remarkable.  Each  Sultan  is 
expected  to  copy  the  Koran  at  least  once  in  his  life.  In 
the  beautiful  cemetery  surrounding  the  mosque  are  the 
monuments  of  the  many  celebrated  Turkish  statesmen 

175 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

and  generals  of  former  times.  The  whole  cemetery 
seemed  one  bouquet  of  exquisite  flowers,  especially  roses 
in  full  bloom. 

A  few  turns  brought  us  into  the  midst  of  the  old 
streets  and  lanes  of  Stambul.  In  one  of  the  small  lunch 
rooms  we  had  a  dinner  in  regular  Turkish  fashion. 
These  dinners,  as  I  have  remarked  before,  are  admirably 
adapted  to  drive  away  hunger  and  not  merely  to  pass 
away  time.  Our  good  dragoman,  Philips,  did  not  for- 
get himself  in  giving  orders,  you  may  be  sure.  After- 
wards he  persuaded  us  to  go  to  the  bazaars,  where  he 
expected  his  friends,  the  stall-keepers,  to  ease  us  of  some 
of  our  superfluous  cash.  This  time  it  was  in  the  shape  of 
rosewater,  which  we  had  hinted  as  a  possible  purchase. 
The  native  merchant  brought  out  six  glass  sticks  bored 
like  a  thermometer,  each  containing  about  a  drop  and  a 
half  of  the  fluid  and  offered  them  to  us  at  forty  francs. 
He  said  that  was  about  their  price  in  any  other  shop. 
With  great  perversity  we  offered  ten  or  twelve  francs 
and  finally  concluded  the  bargain  at  twenty  francs. 
With  much  ado,  the  Turk  asked  us  whether  we  would 
take  it  on  our  conscience  to  make  him  lose  so  much  at 
one  fell  swoop.  We  though  we  could  take  that  and 
much  more  on  our  conscience.  Afterwards  we  found 
out  that  to  have  offered  five  francs  would  have  been 
a  very  liberal  offer  for  the  stuff. 

All  kinds  of  European  and  Oriental  merchandise  is 
exposed  under  these  glass-covered  roofs  of  the  vast 
bazaars.  A  goodly  proportion  of  the  merchandise  sold 
as  Oriental  is  made  in  wholesale  quantities  in  Europe 
and  America  and  shipped  to  the  Orient.  The  shop- 
keepers are  of  course  always  on  the  alert  for  the  stranger 
and  mostly  succeed  in  palming  off  their  goods  at  fancy 
prices.  The  guide  generally  extols  the  wares  to  the  skies 
and  gets  a  share  of  the  booty.  On  the  whole,  the  bazaars 
pleased  me  less  than  those  I  had  seen  in  the  far  East. 

176 


SKUTARI. 

Under  the  glass  roofs  they  have  lost  much  of  the  Oriental 
variety  and  picturesqueness,  and  I  fancy,  that  in  a  few 
years  they  will  resemble  merely  our  great  department 
stores. 

Our  next  move  was  a  passage  on  one  of  the  steam- 
boats across  the  Bosphorus  to  Skutari.  There  we  soon 
procured  three  fine  horses  for  a  ride  up  to  the  heights  of 
Bulgourlu.  Skutari  is  a  large  addition  to  Constantinople 
on  the  Asiatic  side  of  the  Bosphorus.  The  streets  here 
are  wide  and  the  houses  seem  commodious.  The  road 
up  to  Bulgourlu  leads  through  some  of  these  streets  and 
then  past  fine  gardens,  residences,  and  summer-resorts 
on  the  slopes  of  the  hill.  Our  horses,  though  hired,  had 
some  fire  of  youth  left,  and  each  one  of  us,  as  is  usual  with 
those  seldom  on  horseback,  thought  it  his  duty  to  show  a 
little  of  his  horsemanship.  So,  every  now  and  then,  one 
or  the  other  of  us  would  whip  up  the  horse  he  was  rid- 
ing and  make  a  spurt ;  of  course  the  other  two  would 
have  to  follow,  if  they  did  not  want  to  load  upon  them- 
selves eternal  shame  as  indifferent  riders.  My  traveling 
companion  claimed,  that  he  often  hired  horses  in  Du- 
buque  on  Sunday  afternoons  to  ride  out  with  his  friends. 
I  of  course,  as  a  Bedouin  sheik,  and  one  that  had  done  a 
great  deal  of  camping  out,  had  to  keep  up  some  sort 
of  appearances.  As  for  our  guide  Philips,  he  had  to 
prove  himself  a  good  rider  on  general  principles,  for  these 
guides  claim  to  be  paragons  of  all  kinds  of  acquisition 
and  skill.  To  tell  the  truth,  however,  the  three  of  us 
must  have  been  shamming ;  in  our  inmost  souls  we  were 
conscious  of  the  insecurity  of  our  exalted  position,  and 
after  a  while,  no  doubt,  also  of  the  chafing  and  thumping 
of  certain  portions  of  our  anatomy,  used  to  more  sedate 
and  gentle  treatment.  But  what  will  vanity  not  accom- 
plish? 

We  arrived  on  the  top  of  the  mount  in  less  than  an 
hour,  and  were  rewarded  by  a  charming  prospect  and  a 
177 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

pleasant  rest  on  the  greensward.  Other  pleasure  seekers 
were  scattered  here  and  there  on  the  hilltop;  some  well 
to  do  Armenians,  some  Greeks  and  Turks.  An  awning 
was  put  up  by  some  enterprising  individual,  under  which 
he  sold  lemonade  and  other  refreshments.  Pieces  of 
Turkish  Delight,  a  sort  of  soft  candy  steeped  in  powdered 
sugar,  were  brought  with  each  order.  Constantinople, 
spread  out  in  the  sunshine  on  the  other  shore  of  the 
Bosphorus,  lined  with  beautiful  villas  and  summer 
resorts,  stretched  away  to  our  right  where  the  opening 
of  the  Bosphorus  permitted  a  glimpse  of  the  Black  sea 
through  dark  mountain  walls.  Glassy  Marmora 
stretched  away  to  our  left,  varied  by  the  group  of  islands 
on  the  horizon.  Behind  us  the  verdant  hills  and  valleys 
of  Asiatic  Turkey  met  the  gaze  in  glorious  sunshine.  On 
looking  from  this  mountain  over  these  pleasant  scenes, 
one  is  loth  to  remember,  that  this  beautiful  country  was 
wrested  from  Christian  civilization  by  the  barbaric 
Turk,  and  that  his  blighting  footstep  still  rests  on  these 
fair  provinces.  Tyranny  and  bloodshed  terrorize  the 
inhabitants.  Philips,  casting  a  wary  glance  at  the  pleas- 
ure seekers,  that  might  be  within  hearing,  said  that  he 
himself  had  witnessed  the  stabbing,  shooting,  and  cud- 
geling of  inhabitants  in  the  streets  of  Constantinople 
three  years  ago.  According  to  his  assertions,  the  Ar- 
menians were  really  the  first  aggressors,  throwing  stones 
and  shooting  from  housetops  at  Turkish  soldiers,  in  the 
hope  of  causing  an  insurrection  against  the  Sultan's 
government.  Thereupon  the  Turkish  soldiers  began  to 
massacre  every  Armenian  found  walking  the  streets  of 
Constantinople,  and  they  were  seconded  in  a  lively  man- 
ner by  the  Turkish  populace. 

Again  we  bestrode  our  horses  and  descended  in  a 
different  direction  toward  the  great  Moslem  cemetery  on 
the  Asiatic  side.  It  is  seen  as  a  vast  cypress  forest  on 
the  slope  of  the  hill.  The  devout  Mussulman  does  not 

178 


EYOUB. 

like  to  rest  on  European  soil,  but  will  seek  to  be  buried 
on  Asiatic  soil,  where  the  tomb  of  Mahomet  and  the 
Kaaba  stands.  This  accounts  for  the  vastness  of  this 
cemetery.  The  high  cypress  trees  are  so  closely  planted, 
that  their  crowns  completely  shut  out  the  light  of  day. 
Even  more  thickly  beneath  them  are  set  the  upright 
slabs  of  stone,  that  mark  the  graves  of  the  Moslems. 
Some  of  the  stones  are  left  in  their  natural  roughness 
as  they  come  from  the  quarry,  others  have  a  turbaned 
head  carved  on  top.  Many  of  them  are  standing  up- 
right, others  are  beginning  to  topple  over  or  are  lying  pell- 
mell  on  the  ground  in  great  confusion.  As  much  as  the 
Moslem  likes  to  visit  his  graveyards  and  cherish  the 
memory  of  the  dead,  he  cares  little  to  exert  himself  in 
propping  up  the  falling  headpieces  or  repair  the  ravages 
of  time.  If  the  headstone  falls,  is  it  not  the  will  of  Allah  ? 
Through  the  midst  of  this  grove  we  rode  on  a  water- 
washed  trail,  the  stones  looking  like  the  heads  of  ghosts 
on  the  wayside.  In  many  places  the  path  led  over 
groups  of  these  fallen  stones.  Robbers  are  said  to  in- 
fest this  cemetery,  for  in  the  vast  recesses  of  its  forest 
they  would  find  thousands  of  hiding  places  to  elude  any 
pursuit.  So  deep  is  the  shade  cast  by  the  trees,  that  a 
perpetual  gloom  reigns  beneath,  and  though  it  was  a  hot 
sunny  day,  the  air  was  quite  chilly. 

Issuing  again  from  these  dismal  scenes  into  the  sun- 
light, Philips  set  his  horse  into  a  gallop  over  a  wide  pas- 
ture; we  followed  of  course,  neck  or  nothing,  over  the 
uneven  ground.  As  mine  seemed  to  be  the  best  of  the 
three  nags,  it  soon  overtook  Philip's,  while  the  third 
spurted  on  behind.  We  rode  past  the  English  church 
and  graveyard  where  the  soldiers  who  fell  in  the  Crimean 
war  are  buried.  In  the  summer-resort  nearby  a  band  of 
Bohemian  girls  gave  a  concert,  while  the  garden  in  front 
was  filled  with  listening  and  ogling  men. 

Instead  of  one  of  the  large  ferries,  which  we  missed,  we 
179 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

took  a  rowboat  to  cross  the  broad  Bosphorus.  Swiftly 
the  sharp  bow  cleaved  the  waves,  as  the  last  rays  of  the 
sun  glittered  on  the  water  and  fringed  the  storm-clouds 
above  the  city  with  burnished  gold.  Before  we  had  half 
crossed,  the  dusk  began  to  settle.  But  by  the  lusty  ex- 
ertions of  the  two  oarsmen  we  reached  the  old  bridge  and 
elbowed  our  way  through  the  throngs  to  our  hotels.  We 
had  put  in  a  busy  day  of  sight-seeing,  and  when  we 
counted  up  our  expenses,  we  found  that  they  amounted 
to  about  220  piastres  for  both,  which  would  make  nearly 
nine  dollars  of  American  money.  But  this  expense  was 
quite  unusual  with  us ;  all  our  expenses,  including  rail- 
road and  steamer  tickets  for  the  journey,  amounted  on 
an  average  to  only  seven  dollars  a  day.  Conservative 
travelers  estimate  the  daily  expense  of  a  journey  at  about 
eight  dollars  a  person,  not  counting  the  amount  spent 
for  transportation. 

After  mass  at  St.  Anthony's  next  day  we  took  passage 
in  one  of  the  steamers  up  the  Bosphorus  nearly  to  the 
Black  sea.  Charming  scenery  is  presented  as  the  boat 
glides  up  the  now  wider,  now  narrower,  channel.  On  its 
banks  the  wealthy  of  Constantinople  reside  in  beautiful 
villas  during  the  hot  season  of  the  year.  One  of  the 
first  palaces  met  with  is  that  of  Abdul  Hamid,  the  present 
Sultan,  built  close  to  the  European  shores.  A  fine 
variation  of  hills  and  valleys  with  gleaming  villas  and 
well-kept  parks  succeeds  each  other  up  to  Rumili  Hissar, 
or  Roumelian  Fort,  on  the  European,  and  Anatoli  Hissar, 
or  Anatolian  fort,  on  the  Asiatic  shore.  These  mighty 
ruins  are  fortresses  built  by  Mahomet  II  in  1452  on 
each  side  and  at  the  narrowest  part  of  the  Bosphorus,  in 
order  to  force  contributions  from  all  passing  vessels. 
The  castled  walls  and  the  battlements  of  these  ruins  are 
the  most  picturesque  to  be  seen  anywhere.  The  boat 
made  many  stops,  and  at  the  last  one,  we  could  see  the 
mouth  of  the  Black  sea  through  an  opening  in  the 

180 


PILE-DRIVING. 


mountains,  where  the  Black  sea  disgorges  into  the  Bos- 
phorus.  The  flow  of  waters  at  the  narrow  portions  of 
the  channel  is  very  swift.  Many  a  luckless  vessel  in 
times  gone  by,  and  even  steamers  in  our  day,  are  ir- 
resistibly swept  upon  the  hidden  rocks  by  the  strong 
current  and  concomitant  winds.  No  wonder  ancient 
lore  has  woven  around  this  narrow  stretch  of  water 
many  myths  of  dangers  encountered  by  the  first  navi- 
gators. Through  this  passage  Jason  and  the  Argonauts 
beat  their  adventurous  way  to  Colchis  in  quest  of  the 
golden  fleece.  Here  Xerxes  and  Alexander  crossed 
with  their  armies,  bent  on  their  schemes  of  conquest. 
As  we  returned  Bujukdere,  Bekoe,  Kandili,  and  Skutari 
successively  glided  by  at  our  left. 

Arrived  again  at  the  new  bridge  and  having  taken  a 
Turkish  dinner,  we  pushed  through  some  of  the  narrow 
streets  along  the  Golden  Horn  on  the  Stambul  side. 
Here  we  encountered  some  of  the  old-time  scenes  of 
Turkish  life:  crowded  streets,  tumble-down  sheds  full 
of  skulking  dogs,  open  sewers  in  the  middle  of  the  lanes, 
swarthy  Druses,  Arabs  and  Turks,  lounging  around 
with  their  nargilehs  or  lazily  at  work.  On  turning 
round  a  corner  we  suddenly  heard  a  great  shout  and 
beheld  a  crowd  of  ragged  men,  gathered  around  a 
scaffolding  near  the  water  and  each  one  holding  in  his 
hand  the  end  of  a  rope  dangling  from  a  high  pole.  The 
ends  of  each  rope  were  fastened  to  a  thicker  one  running 
over  a  pulley  attached  to  the  pole  about  thirty  feet  high. 
The  other  end  of  this  thick  rope  was  tied  to  an  iron 
weight  lower  down.  This  iron  weight  was  now  resting 
on  a  pile  which  was  to  be  driven  into  the  ground. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  universal  shout  from  the  motley 
assembly,  and  each  one  began  to  pull  at  his  rope,  thus 
slowly  raising  up  the  iron  weight  between  two  guide 
posts.  Louder  the  shouting,  higher  the  weight  rose, 
until  the  overseer  gave  a  signal.  Then  with  one  final 
181 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

yell  each  ragged  Turk  let  go  his  rope.  The  heavy 
weight  jerked  up  the  tangled  maze  of  rope  ends  as  it 
descended  with  a  thump  on  the  head  of  the  pile.  Tri- 
umphantly the  overseer  measured  how  far  the  pile  had 
been  driven  in  and  found  it  —  a  half  inch  lower.  The 
real  situation  dawned  upon  us,  it  was  no  May  festival, 
it  was  a  pile-driving  bee.  Those  thirty-five  men  were 
having  a  grand  huzza  about  every  fifteen  minutes,  while 
they  raised  the  weight  for  one  more  half-inch  blow. 
This  manner  of  pile-driving  was  so  ridiculous  to  us, 
that  I  could  not  keep  myself  from  shouting  and  huzza- 
ing with  them,  when  after  ten  minutes  they  renewed 
their  glorious  achievement.  Riddle:  How  long  would 
it  take  these  men  to  drive  the  piles  needed  for  one  of  the 
Chicago  skyscrapers  ?  Yet  what  is  time  to  them  ?  Were 
they  not  earning  enough  for  at  least  one  pillau  a  day  ? 

Finding  that  the  Aiwan  Serai,  where  the  old  city 
walls  begin,  was  farther  off  than  we  had  expected,  we 
hired  a  boatman  to  row  us  up  the  Golden  Horn.  What 
a  maze  of  old  ramshackle  boats  and  of  ruinous  huts 
along  the  banks!  These  riverbanks  almost  resemble 
those  of  Canton,  which  we  had  seen  three  months  before. 
Half  way  up  we  passed  an  iron  church.  It  is  very 
tastefully  put  together  and  quite  large,  though  not  so 
large  as  that  of  Manila.  From  Aiwan  Serai  the  old 
city  walls  run  over  hill  and  valley  to  the  banks  of  the 
Marmora  sea,  seven  miles  distant.  Istambul  or  ancient 
Constantinople,  which  this  wall  encloses,  is  built  on  a 
tongue  of  land  formed  by  that  sea  and  the  Golden 
Horn.  Two  different  walls,  and  for  a  portion  of  the 
distance,  three  different  walls,  were  built  parallel  to 
each  other  in  various  periods  of  the  history  of  Constan- 
tinople. The  oldest  and  strongest  was  constructed  by 
Theodosius  in  the  sixth  century,  while  the  other  two 
were  added  as  outer  defenses  by  the  Moslems.  A  deep 
fosse  ran  along  the  outside,  parts  of  which  are  now  filled 

182 


YEDI  KULE. 

up  or  used  as  vegetable  or  wheat  patches.  Trees  grow 
on  the  old  ramparts,  sheep  and  goats  clamber  among  the 
debris  of  the  falling  walls.  In  places  there  are  wide 
breaches  in  the  three  walls,  which  give  a  view  of  the 
city  inside.  A  walk  of  three  hours  brought  us  to  the 
Golden  Gate,  all  of  marble,  but  walled  up. 

Through  this  gate  in  1452  the  Mussulmen  entered 
Constantinople,  putting  an  end  to  the  Greek  empire. 
There  is  a  superstitious  belief  that  the  Christians  will 
again  enter  through  this  gate  and  end  the  Moslem  do- 
minion. No  doubt  it  is  possible  that  the  Christian 
nations  will  again  open  this  gate;  but  how  foolish  it  is 
to  suppose  that  walling  up  this  gate  will  keep  them  out. 
There  are  breaches  in  these  walls  large  enough  to  let 
whole  armies  sweep  through,  and  a  moderate-sized  can- 
non could  beat  down  the  old  walls  anywhere. 

Not  far  from  this  gate  are  the  Yedi  Kule,  the  seven 
towers,  which  adjoin  the  Marmora  sea  and  form  the 
end  of  the  wall.  They  are  part  of  a  former  fortress 
and  palace  of  the  Sultans.  Now  all  is  in  ruins  and  only 
four  of  the  seven  towers  remain.  The  Sultans  were 
wont  to  confine  their  prisoners  in  these  towers,  and  when 
it  pleased  them,  also  the  ambassadors  of  Christian 
nations.  The  old  keeper  showed  us  the  dark  vault 
which  the  gracious  Sultans  used  to  reserve  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  Christian  ambassadors.  From  the 
top  of  the  largest  towers  a  fine  view  is  had  of  the  city 
and  of  the  wide  expanse  of  the  Marmora  sea.  Through 
the  kindness  of  two  priests,  that  just  then  happened  to 
join  us,  we  were  informed  of  the  dummy  railroad  train 
just  about  to  start  for  the  city  from  the  nearby  station. 
It  afforded  us  a  chance  to  see  Stambul  also  along  the 
shores  of  Marmora  and  the  Bosphorus,  so  that  we  had 
made  a  complete  circuit  of  the  city  in  one  afternoon. 


183 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  THE  MESHES  OF  A  STAMBOUL  DRAGOMAN  —  SEEING 
MOSQUES  —  THE  HAMALS  —  FROM  KULELI  TO 
ADRIANOPLE  —  A  HEARTY  WELCOME  WITH  THE 
RESURRECTIONISTS  —  THROUGH  THE  BAZAARS  — 
ACROSS  EUROPEAN  TURKEY  TO  SALONICA  —  PAN- 
DEMONIUM OF  CARRIERS  —  SHADOWED  BY  THE  LAW 
—  STROLL  THROUGH  NEW  AND  OLD  TOWN  —  SAN 
DIMITRI  —  CUTTHROAT  CUSTOM  RULES  —  OFF  FOR 
GREECE  —  PRACTICAL  HINTS. 

Our  first  place  to  visit  next  day  was  old  St.  Piedro 
on  one  of  the  side  streets  near  our  hotel.  It  contains  a 
painting  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  by  St.  Luke.  All  of  the 
picture  except  the  face  is  covered  with  embossed  silver. 
Near  by  is  the  orphanage  of  St.  George,  where  we  found 
German  sisters  in  charge.  The  persistence  of  guides 
in  pressing  their  services  upon  strangers  is  nowhere 
greater  than  in  Constantinople.  As  we  crossed  the 
bridge  to  Stambul  a  dragoman  joined  us  uninvited, 
and  followed  us  so  persistently,  that  I  purposely  pre- 
tended to  understand  neither  French,  English,  nor 
German,  in  which  languages  he  accosted  us.  We 
spoke  Bohemian,  which  I  had  learned  from  my  com- 
panion. But  he  followed  us  for  a  long  time  even  to  the 
museum  in  the  Serai,  for  he  saw  that  we  were  shamming. 
His  persistence  ended  only  when  at  last  he  was  engaged 
as  guide  by  an  old  gentleman  whom  we  had  seen  at  our 
hotel. 

The  most  valuable  and  noteworthy  objects  in  the 
museum  of  Stambul  are  the  grand  sarcophagus  of 
Alexander  the  Great  and  the  fine  collection  of  gems 
185 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

recently  found  by  Schliemann  on  the  site  of  ancient 
Troy.  The  former  is  indeed  a  grand  witness  to  the  ad- 
vanced state  of  the  sculptor's  art  three  centuries  before 
Christ.  The  four  sides  of  the  sarcophagus  represent,  in 
images  that  seem  to  live  and  move,  some  of  the  battle 
scenes  in  Alexander's  life,  while  its  cover  represents 
some  scenes  of  his  private  life.  Especially  vivid  is  the 
hunting  scene.  The  whole  monument  is  wrought  out 
of  one  large  piece  of  red  marble.  Schliemann's 
collection  gives  a  vivid  insight  into  the  affluence  of  the 
ancient  Trojans,  for  it  is  a  remarkable  collection  of 
precious  stones  and  exquisite  gold  and  silver  chasing.  In 
the  upper  stories,  mummies  from  the  Babylonian  and 
Egyptian  tombs  are  shown. 

The  tramways  of  Constantinople  (and  in  a  measure 
all  over  the  Orient)  are  cumbersome  and  slow  substitutes 
for  walking,  with  an  annoying  system  of  paying  fares. 
You  must  keep  a  slip  of  paper  in  your  hand  for  the 
frequent  inspection  of  a  set  of  conductors,  that  board 
the  car  every  few  blocks  to  exchange  places  with  each 
other.  The  car  brought  us  to  the  Seraskian  tower, 
the  highest  in  the  city,  commanding  an  extensive 
view  of  Constantinople.  Standing  on  its  summit  we 
were  nearly  blown  off  our  feet  by  the  violent  north-wind, 
which  was  also  quite  cold.  The  Bosphorus,  the  Mar- 
mora sea,  the  Golden  Horn,  the  aqueduct  of  Valens, 
the  towers  and  buildings  on  the  terraced  hills  of  Galata 
and  Pera,  combine  to  form  a  magnificent  scene.  Here 
also  one  is  impressed  with  the  countless  number  of 
mosques  in  Constantinople.  Each  mosque  of  course 
has  also  its  minaret  to  make  it  conspicuous.  Immedi- 
ately around  the  Seraskian  tower  is  a  vast  public  square, 
on  the  western  side  of  which  adjoin  the  administration 
buildings.  The  entrance  to  the  buildings  is  by  a  high 
portal,  from  which  the  Turkish  government  derives  the 
the  name  of  Sublime  Porte.  Descending  and  strolling 

1 86 


HAMALS. 

again  through  the  bazaars,  we  had  the  usual  experience 
with  the  bookkeepers.  Desirous  of  getting  rid  of  the 
importunity  of  one  of  them,  who  wanted  to  press  upon 
me  a  silk  scarf,  I  offered  him  one-third  of  the  price 
asked.  I  was  badly  fooled;  he  eagerly  accepted  the 
offer  and  set  about  trying  to  sell  some  more  of  his  goods. 
One  of  the  loungers  who  lie  in  wait  to  steer  strangers  to 
the  booths  of  their  friends,  followed  us  around  the 
bazaar  and  afterwards  through  miles  of  streets,  though 
we  kept  telling  him  that  we  would  purchase  nothing 
and  had  no  need  of  his  services. 

On  the  stone  approaches  of  a  public  building  a 
group  of  Druse  cobblers  had  established  themselves 
with  their  few  rude  tools  and  pieces  of  leather.  For  the 
novelty  of  the  thing,  I  allowed  one  of  them  to  put  new 
soles  on  my  shoes.  The  work  was  done  in  twenty 
minutes  and  at  small  charge. 

On  our  return  from  Galata  our  attention  was  drawn 
to  a  group  of  nine  men,  who  were  manceuvering  around 
a  huge  wine  butt.  With  its  contents,  it  must  have 
weighed  three  tons.  Strong  poles  were  slipped  through 
nooses  of  the  rope,  which  had  been  passed  around  the 
barrel.  At  a  signal  each  of  the  hamals  stooped  to  bring 
his  shoulder  under  the  ends  of  the  poles,  and  at  another 
signal,  they  rose,  lifting  up  the  butt  with  them.  On 
they  staggered  up  the  hill,  through  the  narrow  streets, 
making  a  stop  every  forty  or  fifty  steps.  Hardly  any 
wagons  or  carts  are  used  for  transportation  in  Constan- 
tinople, but  nearly  all  is  done  by  hamals  or  carriers. 
When  we  had  paid  our  bills  at  the  hotel,  we  had  an 
example  of  what  these  hamals  can  do  in  the  carrying 
line.  One  of  them  slung  all  our  baggage  on  his  shoul- 
ders, making  use  of  his  carrying  strap,  and  on  he  walked 
across  the  Golden  Horn  to  the  railroad  station  in  Stam- 
bul,  a  distance  of  over  a  mile.  He  stopped  to  readjust 
his  burden  only  once  on  the  entire  way. 
187 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

We  were  destined  to  have  some  vexatious  experience 
before  leaving  Constantinople.  A  bevy  of  Turkish 
officials  were  sitting  around  a  large  table,  at  the  rail- 
road station,  and  demanded  our  passports  before  we 
should  buy  our  ticket.  We  had  intended  to  buy  a 
through  ticket  to  Salonica,  with  a  stop-over  at  Adrian- 
ople  in  European  Turkey.  By  detaining  us  until  the 
last  minute,  they  forced  us  to  buy  a  ticket  to  Kuleli, 
thus  mulcting  us  for  almost  double  the  real  fare.  The 
train  was  much  crowded,  so  that  we  scarcely  obtained 
seats,  much  less  accommodation  to  sleep.  There  was  a 
Jewish  family  who  appropriated  all  the  available  room 
in  our  coupe.  I  soon  left  it  therefore  and  improvised 
a  bed  in  the  passageway  by  means  of  a  few  valises  and 
handbags.  The  country  was  uninteresting:  a  rolling 
prairie,  sparsely  settled.  Farther  on,  darkness  shut  it  out 
from  view  altogether.  All  the  way  to  Kuleli  junction, 
where  we  arrived  next  morning,  and  afterwards  to  Adri- 
anople,  the  general  character  of  the  country  remained 
unchanged.  The  rivers  and  creeks  were  much  swollen 
on  account  of  rain,  which  still  continued.  There  are  no 
farmhouses,  like  those  in  other  countries.  The  tillers 
of  the  soil  live  together  in  miserable  villages,  preferring 
to  walk  a  few  miles  to  their  work  every  day  rather  than 
be  exposed  alone  to  the  depredations  of  roving  bands. 
Very  few  are  owners  of  the  land  they  till :  they  are  mere 
day-laborers  for  the  rich  landowners.  Kuleli  station  is 
only  a  large  wooden  building,  like  a  boarding  house  for 
railroaders  in  frontier  countries.  Here  we  took  the 
train  to  Adrianople.  The  country  hereabout  must  be 
fertile,  but  the  soil  seems  to  be  put  to  little  use.  One 
is  reminded  of  the  western  prairies  of  the  United  States. 
Here  and  there  a  wheatpatch  was  seen  and  a  rude 
gathering  of  huts,  a  mere  apology  for  a  village.  The 
railroad  station  is  two  miles  from  the  city  of  Adrianople ; 
why  the  only  railroad  should  pass  two  miles  from 

1 88 


ADRIANOPLE. 


that  important  city  of  European  Turkey  only  the  per- 
verse mind  of  the  Turks  might  possibly  explain.  When 
we  arrived,  the  rain  was  pouring  down  in  torrents,  and 
so  the  only  sensible  thing  was  to  stop  at  the  tavern 
near  the  station.  Accordingly  we  passed  a  few  hours 
here  as  best  we  might  in  the  cold  and  damp  rooms, 
waiting  for  the  rain  to  stop. 

The  two-wheeled  cart,  which  we  took  later  on  to  the 
city,  was  certainly  no  improvement  as  to  comfort.  It 
swayed  to  and  fro  on  the  great  flat  boulders,  that  formed 
the  pavement,  throwing  us  from  side  to  side  without 
mercy.  We  landed  at  the  Resurrectionist  college,  church 
and  seminary.  Both  the  lay  brother,  who  received  us, 
and  the  rector,  Father  Mosser,  had  lived  for  a  time  in 
Chicago.  The  rector  had  been  a  fellow  student  of  Arch- 
bishop Feehan  and  was  in  correspondence  with  Bishop 
Muldoon.  He  prevailed  upon  us  to  take  dinner  with 
him,  during  which  we  learned  some  interesting  facts  about 
this  part  of  the  country.  Adrianople  was  founded  by 
the  Emperor  Adrian.  The  Turks  made  it  their  capital 
in  European  Turkey  some  time  before  the  taking  of  Con- 
stantinople. This  region  was  the  scene  of  some  heroic 
battles,  being  located  at  the  junction  of  the  Suma,  Arda, 
and  Maritza  rivers  and  in  the  midst  of  a  fertile  territory. 

Adrianople  will  no  doubt  yet  play  an  important  part 
in  the  history  of  Europe,  when  once  Turkey  will  be  par- 
celed out  among  the  Christian  nations.  The  Russians 
are  very  influential  in  all  that  concerns  politics  and  are 
steadily  forging  ahead.  The  "Young  Turks"  are  be- 
coming more  and  more  numerous,  especially  in  the 
European  provinces.  They  wish  to  do  away  with  the 
antiquated  forms  and  customs  of  Mohammedanism, 
and  foment  opposition  to  the  tyranny  of  Abdul  Hamid. 
The  most  disagreeable  feature  of  life  in  Turkey,  the 
father  told  us,  is  the  mischief  which  eavesdroppers  and 
spies  are  able  to  do.  One  must  be  on  continual  guard 
189 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

not  to  say  anything  that  can  be  construed  as  a  censure 
of  the  government,  though  its  rulings  be  ever  so  unjust 
and  tyrannical.  The  fathers  here,  however,  are  well 
treated  and  have  quite  an  influence  in  Adrianople.  A 
number  of  Turks  are  converted  to  the  faith  every  year, 
but  the  conversions  from  the  Orthodox  Greek  church  to 
the  united  Catholic  Greek  are  not  frequent:  the  people 
cannot  be  easily  made  to  understand  the  difference  be- 
tween the  Catholic  and  Orthodox  churches.  The  papas 
are  said  to  drive  many  of  the  people  from  the  Greek 
church  by  their  rapacity;  most  of  these  deserters  join 
the  Catholic  church.  The  fathers  hold  the  services  ac- 
cording to  the  Greek  rite,  as  most  of  the  Catholics  here 
are  united  Greeks. 

The  church  is  moderately  large  and  nicely  decorated. 
Like  in.  all  Greek  churches,  there  is  the  iconostasis  in 
front,  which  divides  the  sanctuary  from  the  rest  of  the 
church.  When  the  priest  says  mass,  a  curtain  is  drawn 
across  the  opening  in  the  middle  of  the  inconostasis  and 
hides  him  from  the  beginning  of  the  offertory  to  the  end 
of  communion.  As  a  natural  consequence  most  of  the 
people  leave  before  the  end  of  the  mass.  Communion 
is  given  in  two  species,  and  the  communicants  stand 
while  receiving.  There  are  no  confessionals  in  the 
church;  the  Greeks  make  an  open  confession  of  their 
sins  to  the  priest  and  to  the  congregation.  It  is  done 
within  hearing  of  both.  Fasting  among  the  Greeks  is 
much  more  rigorous  and  universal  than  among  the 
Roman  Catholics.  There  is  such  a  mixture  of  nationali- 
ties in  this  congregation,  that  Father  Mosser  often  has 
occasion  to  use  eight  different  languages  in  one  day. 

After  dinner  Father  Mosser  went  out  with  us  in  spite 
of  the  rain.  From  the  top  of  an  old  fire  tower  we  had  a 
fine  view  of  Andrianople.  Most  of  the  narrow  and  crook- 
ed streets  are  concealed  by  fine  shade  trees,  which  is 
certainly  something  unusual  for  a  Turkish  city.  The 

190 


THROUGH  MACEDONIA. 


Maritza  and  its  two  forks,  the  Suma  and  Arda,  join  to 
make  one  large  stream  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  The 
Selim  mosque  of  Adrianople  was  extolled  as  being 
equal  in  size  and  splendor  to  the  Ahmed  mosque  in  Con- 
stantinople. Inside,  on  each  side  of  the  mihrab,  at  the 
head  of  two  high  stairs,  are  two  small  pulpits,  for  reading 
the  Koran.  In  the  extensive  bazaar  and  in  the  main 
streets,  the  merchants  and  the  people  looked  trim  and 
businesslike.  But  the  sloppy  weather  soon  tired  us  in 
our  stroll  and  we  were  glad  to  get  back  to  the  station- 
tavern  for  an  early  sleep,  as  we  were  to  take  the  train  to 
Salonica  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

For  once  there  was  no  trouble  with  our  teskere  on 
boarding  the  train  and  we  were  again  rolling  through  the 
dark  fog  and  rain  over  a  hilly  country.  Some  stalwart 
natives  were  in  the  car  with  us ;  though  belonging  to  the 
common  people,  they  were  polite  and  well  behaved. 
Towards  noon  we  had  entered  a  more  mountainous 
country.  Glimpses  of  the  Mediterranean  showed 
through  breaks  in  the  hills.  The  seashore  town  of  Deo- 
dadegatch  glided  into  view  a  few  miles  to  our  left.  As 
the  train  wound  into  the  Maleka  mountains  a  vast  rock 
plateau  loomed  up  to  the  right.  The  weather  had  worn 
the  high  cliffs  into  square  blocks,  that  looked  like  the 
towers  of  a  city.  The  sun  had  in  the  meanwhile  driven 
off  the  rain  clouds,  giving  additional  charms  to  the  wild 
scenery.  Presently  the  train  flitted  through  several 
tunnels  and  swung  around  into  a  wide  and  verdant  valley, 
which  stretched  away  in  front  like  a  vast  road  cut 
through  a  mountainous  country.  Far  in  the  distance, 
at  the  farthest  end  of  the  valley,  the  light  of  the  evening 
sun  gleamed  from  the  lake,  around  which  the  train 
.emerged  into  a  more  open,  though  not  much  more 
settled  country.  At  nine  o'clock  we  arrived  at  the  torch- 
lighted  station  Salonica,  the  ancient  Thessalonica. 
Here  we  again  fell  into  the  robber  hands  of  custom 
191 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

officials.  Though  we  had  not  left  Turkish  territory, 
they  scrutinized  our  teskere.  Finding  them  in  order,  they 
began  to  scatter  the  contents  of  our  satchels.  They  gave 
no  heed  to  my  loud  and  uncomplimentary  remarks. 
They  would  probably  have  given  some  attention  to 
them  if  they  had  been  in  a  language  known  to  them. 
The  unlucky  Baedeckers  of  my  traveling  companions 
were  again  yanked  out  in  triumph  and  retained.  They 
are  probably  the  best-read  books  in  Turkey,  that  is,  if 
they  really  examine  them  as  they  claim.  What  a  supreme 
stupidity  of  these  Turks,  to  withhold  such  a  well-known 
book  under  pretense  of  examining  its  contents  for  the  ten- 
thousandth  time!  No  arguments  as  to  their  harmless- 
ness  would  satisfy  these  blockheads  or  rather  thieving 
scoundrels;  and  we  put  ourselves  in  serious  danger  of 
being  arrested  in  trying  to  recover  them  by  little  less  than 
force.  We  had  to  leave  them  in  their  hands  with  small 
hopes  of  getting  them  back  in  time  for  our  departure 
from  Salonica. 

And  now  under  the  flare  of  the  torches  began  the 
pandemonium  of  hotel  runners,  hack-drivers  and  their 
hangers-on.  With  one  fell  swoop  they  pounced  upon 
the  few  Europeans,  who  made  their  exit  from  the  station, 
almost  tearing  them  to  pieces  like  a  pack  of  wolves,  in 
order  to  secure  a  prize  for  some  hotel,  or  a  customer 
for  their  carriage.  After  obtaining  some  kind  of  terms 
from  one  of  the  runners,  we  were  quickly  brought  to 
hotel  Colombo,  where  we  had  no  reason  for  complaint 
in  regard  to  prices  or  accommodation.  Supper  was 
quickly  served  and  well  enjoyed  by  us,  for  very  little 
chance  of  refreshment  one  has  on  Turkish  railroads. 
As  the  town  seemed  to  be  yet  full  of  life,  we  afterwards 
concluded  to  take  a  stroll  through  the  streets.  We  were 
much  amused  by  the  antics  of  a  night-watchman.  Pass- 
ing the  gate  of  an  iron  picket  fence,  we  stopped  to  look 
at  the  building  behind  it.  While  we  stood  there  a  watch- 
192 


SALONICA. 

man  across  the  street  gave  a  signal  by  thumping  his  staff 
on  the  stone  pavement.  This  was  answered  by  another 
of  his  tribe  farther  on.  Unsuspecting  we  continued  our 
stroll  to  the  market,  where  many  torch-lights  cast  around 
a  lurid  glare.  Unknown  to  us,  however,  we  had  been 
shadowed  by  the  suspicious  watchman  and  we  were  soon 
made  aware  of  it,  when  we  stood  in  a  dark  corner  to 
watch  the  lively  scene.  For  there  was  our  watchman 
and  four  soldiers  surrounding  us  at  a  distance  of  about 
ten  steps  and  watching  our  every  motion.  We  kept  up 
the  fun  purposely  for  a  while,  lighting  the  cigars  which  we 
had  bought,  and  pretending  to  examine  the  door  of  an 
old  building  where  we  stood.  They  were  evidently  at  a 
complete  loss  what  to  think  of  our  motions.  Nor  did 
they  leave  us  until  we  had  traversed  quite  a  number  of 
streets. 

The  inhabitants  seem  to  be  a  pleasure  loving  people, 
for  the  cafes  and  taverns  were  well  filled  and  music  re- 
sounded everywhere.  To  our  own  hotel  was  annexed 
a  beer-garden,  (or  rather  a  raki-garden),  which  was 
well  patronized.  In  the  background  a  large  open  stage 
was  occupied  by  a  band  of  Bohemian  girl-musicians, 
such  as  are  often  found  in  southern  Europe.  At  the  end 
of  each  selection  played,  one  of  them  went  around  with  a 
plate,  collecting  voluntary  contributions.  Others  would 
glide  off  the  stage  to  lavish  the  charms  of  their  conver- 
sation on  those  willing  to  receive  them.  Salonica  seems 
quite  cosmopolitan  as  regards  nationality  or  language, 
for  we  heard  several  different  languages  spoken  around 
us. 

The  Catholic  church  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
hotel.  It  is  a  spacious  structure,  newly  built.  As  it  is 
the  only  church  in  Salonica  for  Catholics,  the  fathers 
are  obliged  to  preach  in  half  a  dozen  languages.  After 
mass  a  German  father  invited  us  to  breakfast.  Later 
on,  our  guide  of  yesterday  bunted  us  up  to  show  us  some 

193 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

of  the  sights  of  Salonica.  The  business  houses  along 
the  quay  look  somewhat  modern,  probably  because 
business  is  mostly  in  the  hands  of  Greeks.  On  one 
end  of  the  quay  is  an  old  fortress  and  beyond  some  very 
fine  residence  quarters.  Between  them  and  the  Jewish 
quarters  is  the  old  church  of  St.  George,  serving  as  a 
mosque.  The  entire  interior  is  covered  with  mosaics, 
but  the  Turks  are  letting  the  building  go  to  decay.  A 
still  older  church  is  that  of  San  Dimitri.  It  dates  back 
to  the  second  century,  being  no  doubt  the  oldest  building 
originally  used  for  a  Catholic  church  in  Europe.  Of 
course  the  Turks  have  possession  of  it  and  are  letting  it 
fall  to  ruins.  A  hungry-looking  hadshi  opened  the 
ancient  portals  in  order  to  show  us  the  building.  Two 
rows  of  granite  pillars,  all  battered  and  chipped,  rise 
about  halfway  to  support  the  blackened  timbers  of  the 
roof.  The  upper  part  of  the  church  has  the  appearance 
of  being  the  open  trusswork  of  a  foundry  roof,  so  much 
dirt  has  blackened  the  timbers;  yet  the  building  seems 
to  stand  firm  and  solid.  In  the  rear  under  a  dark  vault, 
the  Moslem  showed  us  a  stone  slab,  full  of  dirt  and  can- 
dle drippings.  He  said  it  was  the  grave  of  San  Dimitri. 
Saint  Demetrius  was  a  martyr  of  the  second  century. 
It  is  easily  possible  that  his  body  once  rested  under  that 
dirty  stone  in  the  ruinous  vault.  But  what  connection 
had  Islamism  with  a  man  who  died  for  Christ  and  the 
Catholic  religion?  What  reason  had  this  ragged  and 
untidy  Moslem  to  show  us  his  grave  as  something  to  be 
venerated?  None  other  than  the  hope  of  bakshish. 
They  are  willing  at  any  time  to  take  over  a  consignment 
of  Christian  saints  and  pretend  to  hold  them  in  equal 
veneration  with  their  fraudulent  prophet,  if  they  promise 
to  bring  a  harvest  of  bakshish.  We  left  the  gaunt  keeper 
of  San  Dimitri  in  a  somewhat  flurried  condition,  for  he 
had  imprudently  aroused  our  displeasure  by  his  fanatic 
bigotry.  Why  should  this  ragged  Moslem  forbid  us  to 

194 


CUSTOM  TROUBLES. 


to  step  on  the  dirty  shreds  of  carpet  ?  Or  why  should  he 
deem  our  feet  more  unworthy  to  tread  on  the  pavement 
of  a  stolen  Christian  church,  on  which  he  and  his  raga- 
muffin brother  Moslems  passed  over  at  will?  If  he  ex- 
pected a  double  bakshish,  he  should  have  dispensed 
with  some  of  his  nonsensical  formalities. 

On  calling  at  the  custom  house  for  our  books  we  found 
it  closed.  It  was  Friday,  and  how  could  a  giaour  expect 
a  Moslem  to  stir  on  Friday  ?  The  police  superintendent 
merely  expressed  his  sorrow  for  his  inability  to  procure 
them  for  us.  We  fared  no  better  at  the  American  con- 
sulate. The  consul  could  not  speak  intelligible  English 
and  I  had  to  do  business  with  him  in  French.  We  were 
mulcted  two  dollars  for  a  vise  of  our  pass:  the  Turk 
fines  you  for  coming  into  his  country  and  fines  you  again 
for  leaving  it.  The  American  consul  in  our  case  was 
the  collector  of  this  outrageous  taxation.  We  had  to 
leave  a  few  more  dollars  in  order  to  obtain  the  promise 
of  sending  the  Baedeckers  on  to  Patras,  Greece,  as  soon 
as  they  could  be  recovered  from  the  custom  house.  The 
advantages  of  being  an  American  citizen  were  far  from 
being  self-evident  to  us  in  Salonica. 

Our  runner  brought  us  notice  that  a  freighted  steamer 
was  to  leave  for  Volo  in  Greece  at  five  o'clock  and  that 
we  might  obtain  passage  in  her.  We  packed  up  in  a 
hurry  and  rushed  to  the  quay.  The  steamer  was  lying 
out  in  the  harbor  among  many  other  vessels.  The  custom 
house  officials  were  on  hand  to  examine  our  teskere: 
it  seems  the  first  thing  these  beggars  would  do  in  rescu- 
ing a  man  that  fell  into  the  water,  would  be  to  examine 
whether  he  had  a  right  to  fall  off  a  Turkish  quay  without 
paying  bakshish.  The  last  Turk,  who  made  an  assault 
on  our  pocketbook  was  the  boatman.  Without  much 
regret  we  shook  the  dust  of  the  land  of  bakshish  and 
teskere  from  our  feet,  and  turned  our  faces  toward  the 
classic  shores  of  Greece. 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

PRACTICAL  HINTS.  Unless  the  saving  of  time  is  of  very  great 
importance,  travelers  from  Palestine,  who  wish  to  see  Constan- 
tinople and  Greece,  will  do  well  to  take  one  of  the  coasting  steam- 
ers at  Jaffa.  The  large  passenger  steamers  generally  make  no 
stops  except  in  Athens,  Smyrna,  and  Constantinople.  The 
smaller  ones  will  pick  up  freight  and  passengers  all  along  the 
coast  of  Asia  Minor  and  at  the  islands  of  the  Aegean  sea.  With- 
out any  extra  expense,  and  not  a  great  consumption  of  time,  the 
traveler  will  thus  see  many  interesting  places.  Those  that  wish 
to  have  no  annoyances  at  landing  or  during  railroad  travel  in 
Turkey,  should  have  their  passes  in  order.  No  doubt  a  bakshish 
slipped  into  the  hands  of  the  officials  would  cover  up  a  multitude 
of  neglect  in  many  places,  perhaps  everywhere.  But  the  risk  of 
being  detained  of  course  in  one  place  or  the  other  is  ever  present. 
Wherever  any  custom  examinations  are  expected,  a  few  silver 
coins  will  work  wonders  anywhere  in  Turkey;  they  always  expect 
donations.  Many  travelers  prefer  to  submit  to  the  imposition, 
rather  than  be  annoyed  or  detained.  The  morality  of  giving 
such  bribes  hardly  comes  into  question ;  for  the  laws  which  cause 
this  kind  of  annoyance,  especially  in  regard  to  passes,  are  most 
unreasonable  and  infringe  on  the  natural  rights  of  travelers. 
Besides,  the  practice  of  bribing  officials  in  Turkey  is  almost  legal 
and  serenely  tolerated. 


IQ6 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ON  THE  SHORES  OF  THESSALY  —  VOLO  —  DELAYING 
A  STEAMER  —  4  LIVELY  LIEUTENANT  —  PAST  CLAS- 
SIC SCENES  —  THE  PIRAEUS  AND  ATHENS  —  RUINS 
OF  THE  STATHION  AND  THE  ACROPOLIS  —  THE  PAR- 
THENON —  LIVELY  GATHERINGS  —  ON  THE  ELYSIAN 
FIELDS  —  SCRAMBLING  ABOUT  AMONG  HISTORIC 
RUINS. 

The  Roumania  was  a  Belgian  steamer  and  Captain 
Coppens  had  his  share  of  troubles  with  the  Turkish  har- 
bor officials.  There  was  a  lively  discussion  about  some 
formality  between  a  bevy  of  these  ne'er-do-well  Turks 
and  the  officers  of  the  ship  as  we  boarded  her.  How- 
ever the  captain  had  a  summary  way  of  dealing  with  the 
noisy  blusterers:  he  hustled  them  off  into  their  boats 
and  started  the  machines  agoing.  The  Turks  had  done 
us  a  good  turn  without  knowing  it;  if  they  had  not 
detained  the  steamer,  we  would  have  come  too  late.  As 
the  heavily  laden  Roumania  swung  slowly  out  of  the 
harbor,  the  departing  sun  shone  from  the  white  build- 
ings and  the  hillsides  of  old  Salonica.  Later  on,  as 
the  vessel  held  its  course  southward  through  the  Aegean 
sea,  the  starry  night  held  peaceful  sway  over  the  quiet 
waters  and  phantom  shores  of  Thessaly  to  our  left.  Our 
captain  was  quite  a  jovial  fellow  and  made  us  feel  quite 
at  home  on  the  Roumania.  As  there  were  no  cabins 
for  passengers,  he  arranged  sleeping  places  for  us  on  the 
soft  cushions  of  the  dining-room  seats.  While  sitting 
with  him  and  a  couple  of  the  officers  in  the  dining-room, 
he  related  some  of  his  experiences  on  the  Mediterranean, 
nor  was  he  backward  in  offering  us  other  good  things 
197 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

to  gladden  the  heart  of  a  guest.  He  seemed  well  pleased 
to  have  some  Americans  and  a  priest  aboard. 

Early  next  morning  we  found  ourselves  in  the  Gulf 
of  Volo,  heading  for  the  town  of  Volo,  the  ancient  Jolcas. 
Wooded  mountains  arose  on  the  shores  of  the  gulf  and 
islands  around,  and  peaceful  villages  nestled  at  the 
water's  edge.  Volo  is  a  lively  town,  spread  along  the 
curving  harbor.  Since  the  railroad'  connects  it  with 
the  interior  of  Thessaly,  a  new  addition  has  grown  up, 
which  is  larger  than  the  old  town.  A  half  a  year  ago 
the  passport  nuisance  was  abolished  in  Greece,  so  that 
we  had  no  difficulty  in  landing  at  any  of  its  ports.  On 
inquiry  at  the  railroad  station,  we  found  the  schedule 
of  trains  rather  inconvenient,  and  so  reluctantly  gave 
up  an  excursion  to  the  mountains  of  Thessaly. 

On  a  hill  of  the  old  town  the  open  market  presented 
a  lively  scene  in  the  bright  sunshine.  On  Saturday  all 
kinds  of  petty  merchants  gather  here,  who  spread  their 
wares  on  rude  tables  under  awnings  or  on  the  bare 
ground  in  the  open  air.  The  merchandise  exposed  for 
sale  was  mostly  such  as  is  used  in  the  households  of  the 
common  people.  Good  natured  crowds  moved  up  and 
down  between  the  rows  of  stands.  Most  of  them  were 
dressed  in  modern  fashion,  though  there  was  a  sprinkling 
of  such  as  were  dressed  in  a  mongrel  European  and 
Turkish  garb,  or  in  ancient  mountaineer  style.  The 
mountaineers  wear  kilts,  something  like  the  highlanders 
in  Scotland,  only  the  kilts  are  made  of  white  muslin  and 
voluminously  plaited.  These  dresses  are  so  short  that 
they  reach  only  up  to  the  knees,  and  make  the  sturdy 
men  look  like  ballet  dancers.  The  legs  downward  are 
often  bare,  or  covered  with  leather  lacings,  which  run 
up  from  the  sandals. 

Seeing  some  Greek  taverns,  we  concluded  to  try  a 
meal  in  one  of  them.  A  crowd  of  men  were  standing 
at  the  wine  counter,  much  in  the  fashion  of  our  American 

198 


AEGEAN  ISLES. 


bars.  The  rest  of  the  room  was  taken  up  by  rude  tables, 
on  which  the  customers  were  served  with  eatables  from 
the  open  kitchen  in  one  corner.  The  place  resounded 
with  jokes  and  laughter  and  animated  conversation. 
As  strangers  we  attracted  curious  glances.  Those  pres- 
ent readily  entered  into  the  fun  of  the  situation,  when 
I  tried  some  of  the  Greek,  which  I  had  studied  on  board 
ship.  The  new  Greek,  which  is  in  use  now,  differs  con- 
siderably from  the  Greek  of  colleges,  especially  as  re- 
gards the  pronounciation  of  the  letters.  There  are  two 
or  three  participial  constructions  which  are  foreign  to 
ancient  Greek,  yet  it  would  not  be  so  hard  for  any  one 
who  has  not  neglected  his  Greek  at  college  altogether, 
to  familiarize  himself  with  the  new  language.  At  the  end 
of  our  short  stay  in  Greece,  I  could  make  myself  tolerably 
well  understood.  The  Greeks  who  gathered  around  us 
at  our  table,  spoke  in  high  praise  of  the  United  States, 
and  in  the  same  breath  they  gave  expression  to  their 
hatred  of  the  Turks.  The  wine  and  fare  pleased  us  very 
well,  though  it  was  of  the  simplest  and  served  up  in  the 
most  unsophisticated  manner. 

Proceeding  along  the  beautiful  quay  to  the  new 
town,  we  heard  that  the  steamer  Paeneios  was  about  to 
leave  for  the  Piraeus  of  Athens.  As  we  conjectured 
that  we  had  seen  the  most  interesting  part  of  Volo  and 
opportunities  of  departure  would  probably  be  scarce, 
we  hastened  to  tranship  our  baggage  to  the  Paeneios  and 
to  become  one  of  her  passengers.  When  we  were  as  yet 
only  a  short  distance  from  the  shore,  one  of  the  steamers 
began  to  throw  up  clouds  of  black  smoke  and  slowly 
move  away.  Our  boatman  gave  us  to  understand  that 
he  feared  it  was  the  Paeneios.  Frantically  we  shouted 
and  waved  our  hats  toward  the  departing  steamer  in 
order  to  induce  it  to  wait  for  us.  But  no  one  seemed 
to  notice  any  of  our  signs.  It  was  just  as  well;  on  row- 
ing a  little  farther  out  into  the  harbor,  we  found  that 
199 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

the  Paeneios  was  still  listlessly  lying  at  anchor.  There 
was  plenty  of  time  for  us  to  embark. 

We  had  not  purchased  any  tickets  ashore  and  I  in- 
quired from  one  of  the  passengers  about  the  price  of 
passage.  I  was  much  surprised,  when  the  purser  came 
around  to  collect  about  twice  as  much  as  some  of  the 
other  passengers  had  paid  for  their  passage.  I  stoutly 
refused  to  pay  more  than  the  rest.  He  began  to  storm 
and  rage  and  called  up  a  few  of  the  crew.  The  captain 
of  the  vessel  also  came  up  to  add  to  the  fracas.  Partly 
in  French  and  partly  in  Greek  he  gave  me  to  understand, 
that  the  steamer  was  kept  waiting  on  our  account.  The 
situation  was  getting  to  be  humorous.  I  told  them  they 
need  not  detain  the  steamer  on  my  account:  I  would 
pay  what  the  rest  of  the  passengers  had  paid  and  no  more. 
I  was  getting  curious  to  find  out  what  these  storming 
Greeks  would  do,  and  how  long  they  would  delay  their 
big  steamer  in  order  to  get  the  paltry  advantage  over  us. 
As  if  they  could  not  easily  force  us  to  pay  the  bagatelle 
by  retaining  some  of  our  baggage  at  Athens !  Three  or 
four  sailors  grabbed  hold  of  my  arm  several  times  in 
order  to  eject  us  by  force.  But  somehow  or  other,  a 
threatening  look  and  a  peremptory  command  not  to 
touch  me,  though  given  in  emphatic  U.  S.  idiom,  always 
made  them  desist.  Finally  the  purser  compromised  the 
matter  by  saying,  that  the  persons  I  had  pointed  out  to 
him  had  gotten  their  tickets  cheaper  by  mistake,  and  that 
they  too  would  have  to  pay  up  the  balance.  As  I  did  not 
want  to  make  others  suffer  by  prolonging  a  joke,  I  ac- 
quiesced and  promised  to  pay  about  two-thirds  of  what 
he  had  asked.  We  had  detained  the  steamer  about 
twenty  minutes,  and  gradually  the  passengers,  who  were 
all  Greeks,  had  gathered  on  deck  around  us  to  see  the 
issue. 

A  bevy  of  Greek  army  officers  seemed  to  have  enjoyed 
the  fun  as  much  as  ourselves,  especially  a  young  lieuten- 
200 


SHORES  or  ATTICA. 


ant,  by  the  name  of  Karras.  He  hovered  around  me 
during  the  entire  voyage,  asking  a  great  many  questions 
about  the  United  States,  and  giving  me  much  information 
about  the  interesting  scenery  through  which  we  passed. 
The  Greek  of  which  I  was  capable  was  of  course  very 
defective,  but  we  managed  to  make  out  each  other's 
meaning.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  traversed 
the  gulf  of  Volo,  entered  the  narrow  channel  of  the 
Negropont,  or  ancient  sinus  Euboeicus,  headed  round  the 
northern  end  of  the  island  of  Euboea,  and  passed  the 
Thermopylae.  Towards  evening  we  approached  ancient 
Chalcis,  at  which  harbor  the  vessel  stopped  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  night.  We  were  continually  within 
sight  of  most  picturesque  mountains  on  both  sides,  and 
many  a  town  passed  in  review,  both  on  the  mainland  to 
the  right  as  well  as  on  the  shores  of  the  island  of  Euboea, 
the  largest  in  the  Aegean  sea. 

Lieutenant  Karras  woke  me  early  in  the  morning  to 
call  my  attention  to  the  city  of  Chalcis,  nestled  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains  in  a  spacious  bay.  The  island  of 
Euboea  runs  parallel  to  a  great  part  of  the  eastern  coast 
of  Greece.  Between  it  and  the  mainland  are  the  Talanta 
and  the  Euripo  channels.  As  we  issued  from  the  last 
named  channel  into  the  gulf  of  Petali,  the  group  of  the 
Cyclades  islands  came  to  view  in  the  south.  We  were, 
soon  able  to  distinguish  the  islands  of  Nio,  Tino,  Sertho, 
Naxia,  Andro,  Zea,  Syra  and  others  of  classical  renown. 
On  the  mountain  heights  to  our  right  gleamed  the  white 
pillars  of  ancient  temples.  Then  we  passed  Laurion, 
on  the  lower  shores  of  Attica,  and  soon  the  headlands  of 
the  Peloponnesus  rose  ahead  of  us.  Our  vessel  veered 
to  the  northward  into  the  gulf  of  Aegina,  passing  the 
island  of  Aegina  and  Salamis  to  the  left. 

The  shores  of  Attica  to  our  right  formed  a  gradual 
slope  up  to  the  mountains  behind  the  city  of  Athens. 
About  six  miles  inward  the  white  temple  of  the  Parthe- 
201 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS 

non  on  the  Acroplis  loomed  up.  Behind  it  lies  Athens, 
and  above  it  are  seen  the  surrounding  mountains  of  the 
Parnassus,  the  Pentelicus,  and  the  Immittos.  About 
six  miles  south  of  Athens  is  its  harbor,  the  ,  Piraeus, 
being  at  the  north  end  of  the  gulf  of  Aegina.  The 
Piraeus  harbor  is  completely  landlocked,  excepting  a 
narrow  passage.  Quite  a  number  of  ships  were  at 
anchor.  A  new  town  has  sprung  up  around  the  harbor, 
and  the  whole  has  an  air  of  enterprise  and  business,  to 
which  one  is  not  accustomed  after  coming  from  Turkish 
countries.  We  had  no  trouble  in  establishing  ourselves 
in  one  of  the  suburban  trains  that  run  to  Athens. 
Among  the  most  noted  of  the  pleasure  resorts  along  the 
road,  is  the  Phalerae  garden.  Its  drives,  walks,  and 
summer  houses  were  swarming  with  the  gay  crowds  of 
the  pleasure-loving  Athenians.  In  Athens  we  took 
lodgings  at  the  hotel  Kamphaxes,  where  we  had  fine 
accommodations  at  moderate  prices.  A  guide,  who  had 
joined  us  at  the  railroad  station,  but  whom  we  had  re- 
fused to  engage,  waylaid  us  at  the  entrance  of  the  hotel, 
waiting  until  we  should  come  out. 

Though  we  told  him  several  times,  that  we  were  out 
merely  for  a  walk,  he  followed  us  up  to  the  great  square 
de  la  Constitution  in  front  of  the  royal  palaces  and 
gardens.  Athens  is  to  a  great  extent  a  modern  city ;  the 
architecture  of  the  buildings,  even  the  smaller  ones  shows 
a  remarkably  fine  taste  and  the  streets  have  a  neat  and 
tidy  appearance.  One  side  of  the  place  de  la  Consti- 
tution is  faced  by  the  royal  palaces.  In  front  of  these  is 
a  terraced  public  garden,  full  of  luxurious  trees  and 
shrubbery,  divided  by  tastefully  arranged  walks.  The 
other  three  sides  are  lined  with  large  hotels  and  public 
buildings,  which  enclose  the  spacious  square  or  piazza.. 
Crowds  of  people  taking  their  Sunday  outing  filled  the 
square.  Rows  of  tables  were  placed  at  some  distance 
from  the  cafes  and  restaurants.  Our  self-constituted 

202 


ATHENS. 

guide  urged  us  to  sit  down  at  one  of  these  tables 
and  order  some  refreshments,  with  which  we  not  un- 
willingly complied. 

At  a  small  distance  to  the  rear  of  the  palaces  are  the 
Olympic  exposition  grounds,  where  the  Americans 
some  years  ago  took  away  so  many  prizes  in  the  Olympic 
games.  The  grounds  border  both  banks  of  the  classic 
Illyssus,  which  is  merely  a  small,  now  mostly  dry,  creek, 
running  through  Athens,  and  near  it  are  the  remains  of 
the  ancient  Stathion.  It  is  a  vast  race-course  in  the 
form  of  a  long  quadrilateral  with  rounded  corners,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  with  many  tiers  of  marble  steps  or 
seats.  The  Sakkas  brothers  have  by  their  magnificence, 
restored  about  half  the  seats  of  this  Stathion.  On  this 
arena  the  ancient  Olympic  games  of  Athens  took  place. 
At  the  upper  end  still  stand  some  columns,  which  record 
the  deeds  of  the  champions  of  old.  The  grounds  on  this 
side  of  the  Illyssus  are  laid  out  in  beautiful  parks,  where 
among  other  monuments,  stands  also  that  of  the  poet 
Byron,  the  great  admirer  of  Greece.  Behind  and  to  the 
left  of  the  Stathion  the  columns  of  the  famous  temple  of 
Jupiter  peer  over  the  trees.  A  modern  exposition  hall 
stands  on  a  hill  overlooking  the  park  and  the  Stathion. 

The  open  space  around  the  exposition  building  was 
swarming  with  gay  crowds,  either  sitting  at  tables  or 
promenading  about.  Whole  families  were  enjoying  the 
open  air  and  listening  to  the  artistic  performances  of  a 
band  of  musicians,  paid  by  the  city.  The  ladies  appeared 
in  very  tasteful  costumes  and  the  gentlemen  rivaled  them 
in  elegance  of  appearance.  The  features  of  the  better 
class  of  Greeks  are  well  proportioned.  On  the  whole  I 
have  not  seen  such  well-dressed  and  fine-looking  people 
anywhere  else.  The  manners  of  the  Greeks  also  struck 
me  as  especially  pleasing.  On  the  way  back  to  the 
hotel  our  guide  induced  us  to  witness  a  play  in  a  theatre, 
which  I  did  not  find  very  interesting,  probably  because  I 
203 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

could  understand  only  the  drift  of  the  plot.  Of  course  it 
must  have  been  much  more  interesting  to  my  companion, 
for  he  fell  asleep  in  the  first  act.  The  hotel  people  showed 
themselves  very  attentive  to  our  wants,  and  we  were 
therefore  well  pleased  with  our  first  experience  in  Athens. 

Next  day,  after  celebrating  mass  in  the  Italian  church, 
our  objective  point  was  the  Acropolis  and  its  ruins. 
Passing  the  place  de  la  Constitution  and  thence  a  few 
more  narrow  streets,  we  reached  the  approaches  of  the 
rocky  cliff  called  the  Acropolis.  An  iron  picket  fence 
surrounds  the  approaches  and  a  small  fee  is  collected  at 
the  entrance.  Passing  the  ruins  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
we  proceeded  at  once  up  the  rocky  sides  to  the  propylae, 
or  colonnades,  which  line  both  sides  of  the  passage  up  to 
the  Acropolis,  and  are  part  of  the  Sacred  road,  or  Agia 
Ode.  This  road  led  from  the  temple  of  Eleusis,  near 
Salamis,  about  seven  miles  away,  to  the  doors  of  the 
Parthenon  on  the  plateau  of  the  Acropolis,  and  as  the 
rocks  fall  off  quite  precipitously,  a  passage  had  to  be  cut 
through  to  the  top.  On  one  end  of  the  propylae  still 
stands  the  small  temple  of  Victory,  which  has  been  re- 
stored from  the  heap  of  ruins  to  which  it  had  been 
reduced  by  the  ravages  of  centuries. 

Up  this  stony  and  steep  passage,  and  between  grace- 
ful colonnades  of  the  propylaea,  the  glorious  pageant, 
formed  according  to  the  mysterious  rites  in  the  temple 
of  Eleusis,  annually  wended  its  way  from  the  Elysian 
plains.  Thence  the  priests  and  priestesses  in  their 
chariots  proceeded  along  the  plateau  to  the  great  tem- 
ple of  Athens,  or  the  Parthenon,  drawing  after  them 
the  thronging  multitudes  to  witness  the  conclusion  of 
the  sacred  rites.  Often,  no  doubt,  the  overflowing 
crowds  could  not  be  contained  in  the  Parthenon  and 
would  fill  the  rocky  plateau,  the  Erechthion  to  the  left, 
and  the  old  Pelasgian  temple,  the  oldest  of  them  all, 
aside  of  it. 

204 


THE  PARTHENON. 


In  our  times  of  course  no  such  gathering  takes  place. 
Bands  of  curious  tourists  climb  this  hill  in  order  to 
admire  the  beauty  and  grandeur  still  lingering  about 
the  crumbling  ruins.  But  let  us  try  and  obtain  some 
kind  of  a  picture  of  that  celebrated  hill  as  it  looks  to-day. 
Having  reached  the  upper  end  of  the  propylaea,  the 
whole  of  the  rocky  plateau  lies  before  you.  It  seems 
about  eight  hundred  feet  long  by  five  hundred  wide,  and 
an  irregular  quadrangle  in  shape.  Old  fortification 
walls  run  around  the  edges  of  the  cliff,  enclosing  the 
whole.  To  the  right  of  you,  at  about  four  hundred  feet 
distance,  rises  the  Parthenon,  the  most  renowned  temple- 
ruin  of  classic  times;  to  the  left  are  the  much  smaller 
ruins  of  the  Erechthion  and  the  Pelasgian  temple.  In 
some  places  the  rocky  plateau  is  strewn  with  fragments  of 
carved  rocks ;  but  the  most  valuable  of  these  are  gathered 
and  preserved  in  the  museum,  which  lies  on  the  farther 
end  and  to  the  right  of  the  plateau. 

After  this  general  view  of  the  Acropolis,  let  us  pro- 
ceed to  a  more  close  inspection  of  the  ruins.  Most  of 
the  pillars  of  the  propylaea  are  still  standing,  but  the 
frieze  above  them  is  missing  in  several  places.  On  one 
side  of  the  propylaea,  on  a  projecting  cliff,  stands  the 
restored  temple  of  Victory,  while  the  four  walls  of  an- 
other structure  occupy  the  corresponding  projection  of 
the  rock  on  the  other  side.  Proceeding  toward  the  left 
near  the  middle  of  the  plateau  we  come  to  the  Erechthion, 
a  small  temple,  almost  square  and  minus  its  roof.  It 
is  especially  remarkable  for  the  Caryatides,  noble  statues 
of  virgins,  bearing  on  their  heads  the  roof  of  a  portico 
at  its  rear  end.  Five  of  these  pillars  still  carry  the  frieze, 
as  they  have  done  now  for  over  two  thousand  years,  and 
these  exquisite  sculptures  have  been  the  admiration  of 
many  generations  of  men.  The  front  of  the  Erechthion, 
which  is  on  the  side  opposite  to  the  propylaea,  is  adorned 
by  exquisitely  graceful  Corinthian  pillars.  Behind  them 
205 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

is  the  main  wall  of  the  temple,  half  fallen  to  pieces. 
Adjoining  the  Erechthion  are  the  remains  of  the  Pelasgian 
temple,  the  oldest  of  them  all.  It  is  merely  a  heap  of 
stones,  above  which  some  of  the  old  walls  project,  so 
that  its  size  can  be  well  traced.  It  is  worthy  of  notice 
because  it  antedates  all  the  other  ruins  by  seven  or  eight 
hundred  years,  for  this  temple  was  erected  by  the  first 
settlers-  of  Greece,  the  Pelasgians.  The  walls  that  en- 
circle the  plateau  are  remains  of  fortifications  built  in  the 
Christian  era,  though  in  many  places  they  rest  on  founda- 
tions laid  by  the  ancient  Greeks. 

The  crowning  glory  of  the  Acropolis  and  of  Athens, 
however,  will  always  be  the  temple  of  the  goddess 
Athenae,  called  the  Parthenon.  The  ground  on  which 
it  is  built  is  somewhat  higher  than  the  rest  of  the  plateau. 
The  platform  of  solid  marble  forms  an  oblong  twice  as 
long  as  it  is  wide.  On  the  four  sides  of  this  platform  rise 
the  vast  fluted  Corinthian  pillars  and,  parallel  to  them, 
an  inside  wall.  The  wall  and  the  pillars  support  the  low 
pitched  roof.  Under  the  eaves  upon  the  pillars  rests 
the  exquisitely  carved  frieze  or  cornice,  which  on  the 
ends  of  the  two  side  walls  of  the  temple  widens  out  to 
form  the  low  triangle  of  the  front  gable.  This  front, 
which  faces  the  propylaea,  is  the  only  side  which  is  still 
entire.  The  sculptures  above  the  frieze  in  the  front  tri- 
angle are  the  admiration  of  all  lovers  of  art.  The  friezes 
all  around  the  temple  in  the  time  of  Alexander  were 
covered  with  plates  of  beaten  gold,  and  the  dazzling  rays 
of  the  sun  were  cast  from  this  golden  crown  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Acropolis  far  and  wide  over  the  surrounding 
country.  The  whole  structure  is  of  the  whitest  Pentelican 
marble.  In  the  middle  of  the  temple  stood  the  statue  of 
Athense.  But  only  insignificant  traces  of  the  treas- 
ures of  art  in  and  outside  of  this  temple  remain.  The 
ravages  of  time  and  the  neglect  and  vandalism  of  the 
Turks  have  destroyed  most  of  the  works  of  art,  which  the 

206 


ON  THE  ACROPOLIS. 


munificence  of  Cimon  and  Aristides  and  the  art  of 
Phidias  and  Ichthinos  called  into  existence  on  this 
plateau. 

The  Turks,  about  a  century  ago,  made  use  of  this 
temple  as  a  storehouse  for  ammunitions  of  war.  A 
spark  falling  into  the  powder  magazine  resulted  in  a 
fearful  explosion  which  tore  off  the  entire  roof,  except 
a  little  part  of  it  on  the  south  end,  destroyed  the  side 
walls,  and  overthrew  the  pillars  in  the  middle  of  the  two 
longer  sides.  But  the  broken  rows  of  pillars  on  each 
side  and  the  still  perfect  rows  in  front  and  in  the  rear 
even  now  give  the  exquisite  outlines  of  the  temple  as  it 
stood  in  the  zenith  of  Greek  glory.  Each  one  of  these 
vast  fluted  Corinthian  columns,  aspiring  gracefully  to 
the  entablature,  is  a  thing  of  beauty  forever  to  the  student 
of  art.  The  secret  of  the  beautiful  proportions  of  this 
temple  lies  in  its  outlines,  which  are  so  arranged  as  to 
correct  the  faults  of  the  perspective,  inherent  to  the 
human  vision.  From  whatever  side  or  position  the  be- 
holder views  the  structure  it  will  always  give  the  impres- 
sion of  perfect  proportion.  Thus  it  happens  that  these 
pillars,  which  look  so  straight  and  seem  to  stand 
perfectly  perpendicular,  are  not  really  quite  straight  and 
are  not  standing  perfectly  perpendicular.  They  were  so 
constructed  and  placed  as  to  correct  the  diminution 
which  the  upper  parts  necessarily  suffer,  in  the  perspec- 
tive of  the  beholder  as  he  stands  on  the  ground.  What 
modern  ingenuity  has  invented  in  order  to  correct  the 
aberration  of  rays  in  photographic  lenses,  the  Greek 
architects  have  done  for  the  beholder  of  this  temple  in 
adapting  its  outlines  to  the  perspective  of  the  beholder. 

But  let  us  pass  again  through  the  propylaea  and 
descend  on  the  pathway  to  the  left.  We  come  to  the 
immense  arches  of  an  extensive  wall  built  of  dark  stone ; 
it  is  the  theatre  of  Herod,  and  is  built  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  More  ruins  of  Roman  times  are  spread  about  in 
207 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

this  neighborhood.  On  the  farther  end  is  the  theatre 
of  Dionysius  or  Bacchus,  leaning  up  against  the  steep 
rocks  of  the  hill.  The  proscenium  and  tiers  upon  tiers 
of  marble  seats  rising  in  a  semicircle  and  exquisitely 
carved,  are  still  standing  after  two  thousand  years  of 
exposure. 

We  obtained  a  plentiful  meal  in  a  nearby  tavern  at 
ridiculously  low  prices,  and  then  continued  our  excursion 
and  sight-seeing.  Next  to  the  Parthenon  the  great 
temple  of  Jupiter  near  the  Stathion  is  the  most  renowned 
ruin  of  Athens.  The  Roman  emperor  Adrian  has  left 
many  proofs  of  his  munificence  in  all  parts  of  Greece, 
especially  in  Athens,  and  this  temple  is  one  of  the  most 
noteworthy.  At  the  entrance  to  the  temple-grounds  is 
Adrian's  arch.  It  rivals  in  size  and  beauty  the  arches  of 
Titus  and  Constantine  in  Rome.  On  the  open  grounds 
behind  it  are  seen  the  great  pillars  of  the  temple  of 
Jupiter.  The  roof  of  this  temple  was  carried  by  fifty- 
six  Corinthian  pillars  of  vast  proportions.  Only  a  few 
of  these  pillars  are  still  standing,  while  some  are  lying 
in  fragments  on  the  ground  in  the  same  position  as  they 
fell.  The  sections  are  six  feet  in  diameter,  about  seven 
feet  long,  of  Pentelican  marble,  and  were  so  closely 
joined  to  each  other  that  no  seams  are  visible  in  the 
pillars  that  have  not  fallen.  The  platform,  which 
formed  the  floor  of  the  temple,  is  yet  entire,  and  on  one 
end  of  this  platform  a  group  of  these  pillars  rise  to  a 
height  of  sixty-five  feet.  The  temple  of  Jupiter  was 
begun  in  the  year  467  before  Christ  and  finished  by 
Adrian  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  147,  a  building  period  of 
614  years. 

During  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  we  visited  the  tower 
of  the  winds,  one  of  the  oldest  monuments  of  Athens, 
the  ruins  of  the  Roman  forum,  and  the  cemetery  on  the 
Elysian  or  Holy  Road.  In  this  cemetery,  gravestones 
and  monumental  statues  that  were  put  up  in  the  time  of 

208 


THE  MUSEUM. 


Pericles  and  Themistocles,  can  yet  be  seen.  Later  on 
we  paid  our  visit  to  the  national  museum.  It  contains 
any  amount  of  statues  from  ancient  times  in  a  state  of 
greater  or  less  preservation.  The  most  notable  are  the 
statue  of  Minerva  from  the  chisel  of  Phidias,  the  Lao- 
coon  group,  and  the  god  Apollo.  Many  other  relics  of 
ancient  times,  too  numerous  to  describe,  are  preserved 
in  the  spacious  buildings.  As  the  rain  interfered  with 
farther  movements,  we  preferred  to  spend  the  rest  of  the 
day  at  our  hotel. 


209 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THROUGH  THE  STRAITS  OF  CORINTH  —  AMID  THE 
CLOUD-SWEPT  RUINS  OF  ACRO-CORINTH  —  PER- 
ENNIAL FOUNTS  —  THE  VINE-CLAD  HILLS  AND 
SHORES  OF  ACHAIA  —  PATRAS  AND  OLYMPIA  OF 
OLD  —  VAST  FIELDS  OF  OLYMPIAN  RUINS  —  ON 
THE  IONIAN  SEA  —  CORFU  AND  THE  COASTS  OF 
EPIRUS  —  ACROSS  THE  ADRIATIC  —  PRACTICAL 
HINTS  —  IMPORTANT  APPENDIX. 

Next  day  we  had  set  apart  for  a  visit  to  the  ruins  of 
Eleusis,  about  seven  miles  distant,  and  situated  on  the 
bay  of  Lepsina,  opposite  the  island  of  Salamis.  This 
excursion  includes  at  the  same  time  a  drive  over  the 
Agia  Ode,  (Holy  Road)  through  the  greater  part  of  the 
city,  and  through  the  beautiful  plains  that  stretch  away 
to  the  bay  of  Salamis  and  to  the  mountains.  The  Holy 
Road  crosses  over  the  plains  southwest  of  the  city  and 
enters  the  defiles  of  the  mountain-spurs  near  the  shores 
of  the  bay  of  Lepsina.  Having  passed  the  hills,  it  winds 
in  a  wide  sweep  around  a  bend  of  the  shore  to  the  ruins 
of  Eleusis.  Extensive  excavations  have  been  made  on 
the  site  of  the  ancient  temples,  where  the  Eleusinian 
mysteries  were  performed.  The  ruins  lie  to  the  right 
of  the  road  at  the  foot  of  a  hill  on  which  stands  a  small 
Greek  chapel.  About  an  acre  of  ground  is  covered  with 
fragments  of  statues,  pillars,  and  carved  stones,  etc., 
that  once  were  part  of  the  many  buildings,  now  fallen 
to  ruins.  The  excavators  have  laid  bare  the  foundations 
of  most  of  the  temples,  so  that  they  can  be  pretty  well 
traced. 

The  oldest  relic  is  the  Pelasgian  temple  of  Pluto, 
211 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

which  was  only  a  small  enclosure  in  the  front  end  of  the 
deep  cave  of  Pluto  in  the  side  of  the  hill.  Around  this 
old  Pelasgian  temple  many  additions  had  been  made 
in  the  course  of  centuries.  The  latest  of  them  is  the 
temple  of  Adrian.  Part  of  the  colonnade,  which  led 
from  the  Pelasgian  temple  to  the  place  where  the  Eleu- 
sinian  mysteries  were  celebrated,  is  still  to  be  seen. 
Rows  of  marble  seats,  running  partly  up  the  hill  in  a 
semicircle,  mark  the  mysterious  quarters  of  this  temple- 
complex,  where  none  but  the  initiated  were  ever  allowed 
to  set  foot,  and  where  in  later  times  the  orgies  of  Dio- 
nysius  or  Bacchus  took  place.  At  the  farther  end  of 
the  ruins,  old  Roman  fortifications  rise  out  of  the  waters. 
Beyond  the  summit  of  the  hill  is  an  ancient  temple,  still 
under  roof,  though  2,000  years  old.  It  is  used  as  a  mu- 
seum, where  a  large  collection  of  broken  statues  and 
fragments  from  the  neighboring  ruins  are  collected. 
The  best  preserved  relics  are  a  Venus,  a  Bacchus,  and 
a  Ceres.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  the  eye  scans  the 
Eleusinian  fields. 

The  remainder  of  the  afternoon  we  spent  in  visiting 
once  more  the  Acropolis  and  its  immediate  surroundings. 
Adjoining  the  hill  of  the  Acropolis,  opposite  to  the 
propylaea,  is  the  hill  of  the  Areopagus.  Its  rocky  sum- 
mit is  excavated  in  many  places,  showing  the  remains 
of  the  public  buildings.  On  the  declivities  of  the  Areop- 
agus, farthest  from  the  propylaea,  lie  many  acres  of 
ruins  where  the  streets  which  portioned  off  the  squares 
are  still  traceable.  On  the  other  side  of  a  deep  ravine 
is  the  hill  of  the  Nymphs.  The  ruins  of  a  large  temple 
and  dwellings  adjoining  it  are  quite  extensive.  Here 
the  priestesses  of  Minerva  resided  in  olden  times.  The 
remains  of  the  great  monument  of  Philopapos  crown 
the  top  of  another  hill,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  left. 
The  temple  of  Theseus  is  not  far  from  the  Ode  Agia, 
on  the  southern  outskirts  of  Athens.  It  is  the  only  one 

212 


THE   ACROPOLIS 


RUINS   OF   OLYMPIA 


THE  AREOPAGUS. 


besides  the  one  just  mentioned  which  is  yet  under  roof 
and  entire.  It  is  in  the  same  style  as  the  Parthenon  on 
the  Acropolis,  though  much  smaller  and  without  the 
fine  proportions  and  exquisite  ornaments  peculiar  to 
the  Parthenon.  The  Corinthian  pillars  surrounding 
it  are  still  standing. 

In  order  to  make  the  entire  circuit  of  the  Acropolis, 
we  returned  by  way  of  the  Areopagus  to  the  west  side 
of  the  Acropolis  hill,  opposite  to  the  theatre  of  Herod 
mentioned  above.  This  whole  western  side  of  the  hill 
is  occupied  by  old  fortification  walls.  They  overhang 
the  cliffs  above  and  abut  on  the  sides.  Soon  we  were 
entangled  in  a  maze  of  narrow  passages  between  old 
ruins  and  small  huts,  where  the  poorest  Athenians  have 
their  abode.  The  passages  were  mere  paths  running 
up  and  down  the  cliffs  halfway  up  the  Acropolis.  The 
lights  of  the  city  began  to  gleam  below  us  and  we  were 
getting  somewhat  anxious.  We  would  not  have  found 
our  way  out  of  this  labyrinth,  if  one  of  the  urchins  had 
not  come  to  our  aid  and  led  us  through  steep  ravines 
and  through  the  old  walls  of  ruinous  huts  to  the  street 
below.  We  were  glad  to  be  again  in  the  well  lighted 
portion  of  the  city.  For  a  diversion  we  went  for  an 
hour  or  two  to  the  hippodrome  or  circus,  for  which  the 
Athenians  have  an  extra  building.  The  performances 
were  of  an  inferior  kind,  except  those  of  one  of  the  riders, 
who  atoned  for  the  rest  of  the  company  and  the  stale 
jokes  of  the  clowns.  On  the  whole,  however,  we 
regretted  the  loss  of  an  hour's  sleep,  which  we  might 
have  enjoyed  instead  of  sitting  on  the  hard  benches  of 
the  hippodrome. 

Having  missed  the  morning  train  for  Corinth,  we 
were  obliged  to  wait  till  noon.  While  we  were  waiting 
for  our  breakfast  at  the  restaurant,  funereal  music 
resounded  through  the  drizzling  morning  air.  A  regi- 
ment of  soldiers,  who  seemed  rather  of  small  stature  and 
213 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

who  kept  rank  and  step  but  indifferently,  presently 
marched  through  the  sloppy  street.  Behind  them  fol- 
lowed a  procession  of  black-robed  papas  and  other 
mourners,  chanting  a  mournful  song.  The  hearse  was 
exquisitely  decorated  with  a  profusion  of  flowers.  It 
was  the  funeral  of  a  Greek  papa  or  priest.  Next  after 
the  hearse  came  about  two  hundred  of  the  cavalry  and 
many  civilians  in  carriages. 

Our  bill  at  the  hotel  was  moderate.  We  were  well 
pleased  with  Athens  and  its  inhabitants.  The  train  to 
Corinth  was  crowded,  but  we  managed  to  get  a  seat  near 
the  window,  and  so  were  enabled  to  enjoy  the  beautiful 
scenery  along  the  road.  After  passing  Eleusis  and  the 
island  of  Salamis,  the  railroad  skirts  the  gulf  of  Aegina 
up  to  the  narrow  isthmus  of  Corinth.  The  sun  had  in 
the  meanwhile  broken  through  the  rain  clouds,  and  shone 
brightly  over  the  limpid  waters  to  our  left  and  the  varied 
mountain  scenery  to  our  right.  Like  a  snake  the  train 
wound  along  the  rocky  cliffs  of  the  abrupt  seashore, 
high  above  the  blue  expanse  of  the  sea  and  the  wave- 
worn,  rocky  beach.  Our  train  crossed  the  deep  canal, 
which  now  connects  the  waters  of  the  Corinthian  gulf 
on  the  west  with  that  of  the  Gulf  of  Aegina  on  the  east. 
Though  the  canal  is  only  seven  miles  long,  it  is  a 
remarkable  engineering  feat  on  account  of  the  great 
depth  to  which  it  had  to  be  cut  into  the  solid  rock.  As 
we  passed  over  its  iron  bridge,  it  seemed  only  a  small 
creek  in  a  deep  abyss.  Beyond  lies  New  Corinth,  in 
the  province  of  Morea,  the  ancient  Peloponnesus. 

The  present  town  of  Corinth  is  built  about  five  miles 
from  the  old  Corinth  and  nearer  to  the  water.  Old  Cor- 
inth was  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  vast  rocky  cliff,  some 
four  miles  from  the  shore.  Only  a  small  gathering  of 
miserable  huts,  built  upon  hills  of  ruins,  mark  the  site  of 
the  ancient  city.  As  it  was  yet  early  in  the  afternoon 
when  we  left  the  train,  we  at  once  hired  one  of  the  clumsy 

214 


ACRO-CORINTH. 


country  stages  to  bring  us  there.  Very  little  of  the  ruins 
are  visible,  for  they  lie  buried  twenty  or  thirty  feet  below 
hills  of  debris  and  accumulated  soil.  Fields  of  grain  and 
pastures  now  meet  the  eye,  where  the  city  once  stood. 
Great  excavations  have  been  made  and  were  then  in 
progress  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Fortunately  the 
foreman,  who  was  directing  the  excavations,  spoke  Eng- 
lish and  kindly  volunteered  some  information  regarding 
the  ruins  recently  uncovered. 

They  were  the  remains  of  ancient  temples,  that  had 
been  built  over  and  around  the  perennial  fountains,  so 
often  mentioned  in  the  classics.  The  greater  part  of  a 
large  hill  had  been  removed.  Twenty  feet  below  the  sur- 
face, the  foundations  of  temples,  the  intricate  systems  of 
conduits  for  distributing  the  waters  of  the  fountains 
through  the  large  complex  of  buildings  and,  under  the 
walls  of  an  old  temple  of  the  time  of  Pausanias,  the  Per- 
ennial fountains  had  lately  been  discovered.  Four  of 
the  seven  bronze  lionheads,  through  which  the  waters 
gushed  forth,  still  protruded  from  the  old  walls.  Some 
distance  from  these  excavations  the  rock-hewn  caves 
over  the  fountain  of  Glaukus  had  also  been  brought  to 
the  light  of  day.  The  only  monument  of  antiquity  which 
had  been  visible  before  any  excavations  were  made,  were 
the  remains  of  a  Doric  temple.  It  must  have  been  stood 
on  a  considerable  eminence,  which  explains  the  fact  that 
it  was  not  buried  beneath  the  soil  like  the  rest  of  the  city. 
All  that  remained  of  it  are  three  Doric  pillars  standing  on 
one  corner  of  the  temple  platform.  They  are  at  least 
three  thousand  years  old.  The  dark  granite,  of  which 
they  are  hewn,  is  crumbling  away  from  age  and  the  tem- 
ple floor  is  covered  for  the  most  part  by  a  drift  of  sand. 

The  great  mount  to  the  south  of  Corinth  is  called  the 
Aero-Corinth.  Its  rocky  cliffs,  rising  perpendicularly 
two  thousand  feet  above  the  plain,  are  crowned  by  for- 
tification walls,  perhaps  the  most  picturesque  in  the 
215 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

world.  This  stronghold  dates  from  the  Venetian  occu- 
pation in  the  twelfth  century.  I  wished  to  ascend  to  the 
summit,  though  the  foreman  of  the  excavations  party 
thought  that  I  would  not  be  able  to  find  the  way  alone, 
and  that  I  would  not  have  time  before  nightfall  to  accom- 
plish the  journey.  Nevertheless  I  started  out  to  climb 
the  intervening  hills  toward  a  ridge,  that  seemed  to  afford 
a  gradual  ascent  half  way  up  the  east  side  of  the  moun- 
tain. Having  reached  the  place  where  the  ridge  meets 
the  sides  of  the  Aero-Corinth,  progress  seemed  at  an  end, 
for  I  stood  before  an  almost  perpendicular  ascent  of 
broken  rocks,  and  the  fortification  walls  were  yet  at  a 
great  distance  above  us.  Only  by  using  hands  and  feet 
and  reaching  out  for  overhanging  roots  and  projections,  I 
wound  gradually  higher  and  higher  around  the  south  side 
of  the  mountain.  Nearly  exhausted  I  reached  the  pla- 
teau inside  of  the  walls.  The  fortification  walls  enclose 
about  a  half  square  mile  of  uneven  ground.  Near  the 
center,  on  an  eminence,  were  the  ruins  of  old  temples, 
and  on  the  summit  was  a  wooden  platform,  which 
must  be  of  recent  construction,  probably  for  scientific 
observations.  From  this  platform  there  is  a  magnificent 
view  of  the  surrounding  country.  The  gulf  of  Corinth 
seemed  like  a  slender  arm  of  water,  stretching  inward 
from  the  Adriatic  as  if  to  caress  the  smiling  landscape. 
The  sun  was  casting  its  mellow  evening  rays  over  the  hills 
and  mountains  on  both  sides  and  behind  the  Aero- 
Corinth.  The  fort  has  long  since  been  deserted  and  in 
many  places  the  walls  are  falling  to  pieces.  On  the  side 
facing  old  Corinth  the  walls  are  particularly  strong. 
Tar  had  been  recently  smeared  on  the  edges  of  the  tur- 
rets and  walls  and  then  set  afire.  It  must  have  been  a 
fine  spectacle  from  below  to  see  the  edges  of  this  great 
cliff  encircled  by  a  flaming  crown  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night. 

I  was  fortunate  in  finding  a  path  leading  through  the 
216 


ACHAIAN  SCENES. 


gate  in  front  and  down  the  declivity  outside,  for  it  would 
have  been  impossible  to  climb  down  the  same  way  which 
I  had  used  in  coming  up.  I  found  my  traveling  com- 
panion sitting  with  a  few  Greek  villagers  and  a  German, 
drinking  wine  at  the  tavern  and  having  a  good  time. 
Dusk  had  settled  over  the  land,  when  we  again  took  our 
places  in  the  conveyance.  I  was  so  fagged  out  by  the 
steep  climbing,  that  I  fell  asleep  on  the  way.  There  was 
no  life  in  new  Corinth.  The  streets  were  not  even 
lighted,  and  there  was  absolutely  no  business  except  in 
one  tavern.  What  else  was  there  to  do,  than  to  betake 
ourselves  to  rest  at  an  early  hour? 

Early  next  morning  we  boarded  a  train  for  Patras. 
The  train  was  crowded.  It  seems  the  Greeks  like  to 
travel.  This  also  gave  me  a  better  chance  to  make  use 
of  the  Greek  which  I  had  picked  up  with  the  help  of  a 
grammar  in  the  last  two  weeks.  The  common  people 
easily  overlooked  my  mistakes  and  difficulties  in  trying 
to  make  myself  understood.  The  conductor  of  the  pre- 
vious day  was  also  on  this  train ;  he  was  a  jovial  blade, 
and  often  appeared  at  our  window  to  exchange  a  few 
words  with  us.  The  train  follows  the  shores  of  the 
Corinthian  gulf,  affording  beautiful  views  of  blue  water 
on  the  right  and  mountain  scenery  to  the  left.  The 
slopes  between  the  gulf  and  the  mountains  form  almost 
one  continued  vineyard  from  Corinth  to  Patras.  At  one 
place  the  mountains  approach  close  to  the  shore,  and  a 
great  headland  impends  over  the  railroad  track,  as  if 
ready  to  fall  into  the  sea.  Several  thriving  towns  are 
lined  along  the  road  and  seashore,  half  concealed  by 
trees  and  gardens.  We  found  the  Greeks  social  and 
friendly  throughout,  not  overbearing,  contented  and 
happy,  though  most  of  them  must  be  poor. 

Across  the  bay  of  Corinth,  which  is  only  a  few  miles 
wide,  picturesque  chains  of  mountains  rise  and  at  last 
taper  out  into  a  headland  opposite  Patras.  We  arrived  at 
217 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

Patras  at  about  three  o'clock  and  took  our  headquarters 
at  Hotel  Anglia.  Patras  is  a  large  town  full  of  business 
and  pleasure,  both  of  which  seem  natural  in  such  a  fine 
port  and  in  the  midst  of  so  luxurious  and  fertile  a  coun- 
try. The  tasteful  buildings,  the  clean  streets,  the  public 
squares  and  parks,  cannot  but  make  a  favorable  impres- 
sion on  the  visitor.  The  variation  of  wooded  hills  and 
verdant  valleys  makes  its  surroundings  a  veritable  para- 
dise. Our  first  care  on  arriving  was  to  inquire  at  the 
custom  house  for  the  unlucky  Baedeckers,  which  we  had 
requested  the  rapacious  officials  of  Salonica  to  send  on 
to  this  town.  They  were  not  there.  They  arrived  sev- 
eral weeks  later  and  the  custom  officials  at  Patras  were 
kind  enough  to  send  them  on  to  Rome  at  their  own  cost. 
Our  cabman  took  us  on  to  the  Greek  church  of  St.  An- 
drew. It  is  built  in  the  Greek  or  Byzantine  style  and 
very  finely  decorated  inside.  An  old  gray-bearded  papa 
showed  us  the  tomb  of  St.  Andrew  in  the  right  aisle  of 
the  church.  The  lower  part  is  of  polished  marble,  inlaid 
with  precious  stones.  Above  it  rests  a  canopy  on  four 
pillars.  The  tomb  does  not  contain  the  body  of  St. 
Andrew,  but  after  we  had  gained  the  confidence  of  the 
priest,  the  old  man  brought  a  gold  and  silver  reliquary, 
which  he  said  contains  the  thumb  of  the  apostle. 

Not  far  from  this  church  is  the  public  park  over- 
looking the  seashore.  In  the  centre  of  this  park,  under 
a  glass  house,  is  preserved  the  mosaic  floor  of  an  old 
temple,  which  formerly  stood  there.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
artistic  and  largest  floor-mosaics  of  ancient  times  in  ex- 
istence. Nobody  that  visits  Patras  misses  an  excursion 
to  San  Gerokomio,  a  very  old  Greek  church  and  convent, 
a  few  miles  south  of  the  town.  From  this  eminence  the 
white  buildings  of  Patras,  encircled  by  the  vine-clad  hills 
and  the  blue  sea  beyond,  formed  a  charming  prospect 
in  the  mellow  evening  sunshine.  As  our  carriage  neared 
the  convent  it  passed  through  idyllic  gardens.  Delight- 
218 


PATRAS. 

ful  shady  bowers  shield  from  the  sun,  and  the  fragrance 
of  flowers  and  fruit  fills  the  air.  Near  the  entrance  to 
the  convent  stood  a  modest  wine  tavern,  where  the  rustic 
benches  invite  to  rest  and  refreshment  beneath  the  shade 
trees.  The  church  and  convent  offer  nothing  particu- 
larly remarkable,  except  their  age.  Services  were  going 
on  in  the  chapel,  at  which  a  score  of  finely  dressed  people 
assisted,  standing  in  groups  on  the  stone  pavement.  The 
services  consisted  of  the  usual  drawling  and  interminable 
chant  of  Greek  worship,  while  every  now  and  then  one 
of  the  clerics  went  around  incensing  his  colleagues. 

We  had  seen  and  heard  the  same  thing  often  enough 
in  Jerusalem,  so  we  preferred  to  sit  under  the  shade  of 
the  trees  to  listen  to  a  few  tunes  of  a  wandering  musician, 
who  was  playing  on  his  harpsicord  in  front  of  the  tavern. 
When  we  again  entered  the  town  after  sunset,  the  streets 
were  literally  alive  with  well  dressed,  happy  people 
chatting  and  laughing,  while  taking  their  evening  prome- 
nade. The  well  to  do  were  tastefully  dressed,  and  this 
is  especially  true  of  ladies.  There  seemed  to  be  quite  a 
spirit  of  companionship  and  fraternity  between  the 
different  classes.  In  one  of  the  by-streets  we  came  upon 
the  ruins  of  an  old  Roman  theatre,  built  of  brick.  The 
proscenium  and  stage  and  the  great  semicircle  of  terraced 
seats  are  still  in  good  preservation.  On  the  hill  behind 
the  city  could  also  be  seen  the  frowning  walls  of  an  old 
Venetian  fort.  The  ancient  monuments  here  and  every- 
where in  Greece  are  strictly  guarded ;  as  well  against  the 
ravages  of  time,  as  against  the  vandalism  of  visitors. 
Otherwise  there  would  soon  be  no  relics  left. 

The  Catholic  church  in  Patras  is  in  charge  of  an  old 
Italian  priest.  It  is  in  the  business  part  of  the  city.  He 
very  urgently  invited  me  to  return  and  hold  services  on 
Sunday;  but  after  returning  from  Olympia,  I  found 
that  our  boat  would  leave  on  Saturday.  In  the  evening 
we  attended  an  Italian  opera  in  one  of  the  gardens.  It 
219 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

was  all  about  an  eccentric  rich  man,  who  was  beguiled 
by  a  lot  of  monks  (Latin  monks  of  course)  to  buy  some 
statues  of  women,  to  help  their  monastery  out  of  financial 
difficulties.  My  traveling  companion  was  soundly 
asleep  before  the  play  was  half  over,  for  he  was  partly 
deaf,  and  thus  could  not  hear  a  word  of  the  play  or  the 
fine  singing.  But  when  to  his  continual  nodding  he 
added  a  nasal  solo  crescendo  pocc'a  pocco,  the  surround- 
ing Greek  beauties  began  to  cast  around  dimpled  smiles 
to  find  the  extra  basso  of  the  occasion.  He  of  course 
remained  unconscious  both  of  their  bewitching  smiles 
and  their  youthful  giggling.  I  was  loath  to  wake  him, 
for  he  was  tired,  and  awakened  would  not  be  able  to  enjoy 
the  fine  points  of  the  situation,  one  way  or  the  other. 
It  was  worth  something  to  me  to  be  able  to  enjoy  two 
comic  operas  at  the  same  time.  I  merely  nudged  him 
once  in  a  while  to  prevent  fortissimos.  Before  the  play 
was  over  I  too  had  hankerings  after  the  arms  of  Mor- 
pheus, whose  soft  embraces  we  went  to  enjoy  at  about 
eleven  o'clock,  though  the  streets  were  yet  full  of  life. 

Early  next  morning  the  train  was  taking  us  along  the 
coast  toward  Olympia  in  the  south  of  the  Peloponnesus. 
Once  more  we  were  in  crowded  cars,  passed  the  fruitful 
vineyards,  conversed  with  pleasant  people,  and  met  the 
smiles  of  the  same  jovial  conductor  at  the  car  window. 
At  one  of  the  stations  my  companion  had  gotten  off  to 
purchase  some  small  article,  and  as  his  deafness  pre- 
vented him  from  hearing  the  signal,  he  was  left  behind. 
I  did  not  notice  his  absence,  until  one  of  the  passengers 
reminded  me  of  it.  Hastily  I  informed  our  friend  the 
conductor,  though  we  were  already  a  half  mile  from  the 
station.  He  stood  by  us  in  our  time  of  need  and  gave 
the  signal  to  stop  the  train.  In  the  meanwhile  my  friend 
had  started  to  run  after  the  train,  but  had  given  it  up, 
when  I  jumped  out  to  look  for  him,  After  some  delay 
he  was  landed  safely  and  our  train  sped  onward.  I  don't 
220 


OLYMPIA. 

expect  to  meet  so  good  natured  a  conductor  in  the  near 
future,  especially  not  among  the  train  czars  of  the  United 
States.  I  suspect  even  our  Greek  conductor  could  not  be 
so  easily  induced  to  delay  a  train  so  long,  for  any  other 
than  Americans.  We  arrived  at  Olympia  about  noon- 
time. It  is  situated  in  a  verdant  valley,  watered  by 
the  small  river  Alpheios  and  surrounded  by  charming 
mountain  scenery.  The  station  is  some  distance  from 
the  excavations  and  the  town  consists  only  of  a  few 
houses,  two  rival  hotels,  and  a  museum  near  the  great 
excavations. 

After  a  scant  dinner,  we  sallied  forth  to  the  ruins  and 
their  surroundings.  The  sharp  cones  of  a  wooded  hill 
rose  behind  our  hotel  across  the  Erymanthos  creek, 
which  empties  into  the  Alpheios  near  the  ruins.  It  is  the 
Kronion,  commanding  a  fine  view  of  the  Olympian 
fields  spread  below.  We  tried  to  gain  its  summit,  which 
is  of  considerable  height,  but  after  a  futile  attempt  desist- 
ed on  account  of  the  thick  growth  of  underwood.  From 
its  southern  base  extend  the  great  excavations  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  square.  Nearly  fifteen  feet  of  rubbish  and  soil 
had  covered  this  space.  But  the  patient  labor  of  the 
excavators  had  now  disclosed  the  vast  ruins  to  the  light 
of  day.  Here  lay  the  remains  of  temples,  playhouses, 
baths,  arenas,  treasure  vaults,  that  once  had  attracted 
the  champions  of  the  world,  and  the  countless  thousands 
of  spectators  even  from  distant  Rome.  The  walls  are 
now  heaps  of  stones,  the  pillars  are  lying  in  confusion  on 
the  ground  or  over  each  other,  the  ornaments  and  carv- 
ings of  the  buildings  are  scattered  in  fragments  between 
the  huge  blocks  of  stone  foundations.  The  great  temple 
of  Jupiter  is  near  the  centre.  Its  huge  platform  foun- 
dation is  still  intact  and  some  of  the  Doric  pillars  are  still 
standing.  On  one  side  are  the  remains  of  the  arenas 
and  the  playgrounds,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  the 
ruins  of  the  apartments  for  the  participants  in  the  games. 
221 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

On  the  other  sides  are  the  intricate  mazes  of  the  Roman 
thermae  or  hot  baths,  the  foundations  exposed,  the  pillars 
broken  off  or  toppled  over,  the  underground  conduits 
laid  bare. 

All  the  glory  of  the  Olympian  games  has  departed. 
Over  these  grounds,  how  many  thousands  were  not 
wont  to  throng  in  ancient  times  at  the  call  of  the  envoys. 
Every  four  years  they  were  sent  out  to  the  four  quarters 
of  the  compass  to  invite  the  Greek  and  the  Barbarian  to 
take  part  in  or  to  witness  the  deeds  of  far-famed  men! 
How  many  a  heart  exulted  in  victory  on  that  stathion,  in 
the  throwing  of  the  disk,  in  wrestling  or  running,  in  poetry 
or  song!  How  many  also  departed  vanquished  and  sick 
at  heart,  broken  in  despair,  themselves  and  their  friends 
ruined  by  the  lost  wagersj  There  shouts  of  applause 
uprose  and  fired  the  contending  champion  to  renewed 
exertion;  there  also  the  sharp  tongue  hissed  words  of 
scorn  and  derision  at  some  defeat.  Fiercely  the  storms 
of  envy  and  ambition  often  raged  in  the  hearts  of  the 
champions,  rousing  up  kindred  storms  in  the  hearts  of 
the  spectators,  that  vented  itself  into  shouts  of  rage 
or  exultation  at  defeat  or  victory.  All  is  silent  now, 
the  shouts  are  hushed  as  in  a  grave,  the  games  died  out, 
the  crowds  are  dispersed  ages  ago.  Nothing  except  the 
hesitating  step  of  the  curious  tourist  resounds  on  the 
place,  his  vacant  stare  and  wondering  remark,  mingled 
with  the  gasconading  swagger  of  the  guide,  have  taken 
the  place  of  all  the  glory  of  the  Olympiads. 

A  suspicious  watchman  follows  you  around  from  afar, 
lest  you  are  ridiculous  enough  to  abscond  a  piece  of 
crumbling  marble  as  memento.  No  doubt  the  watchman 
was  found  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  preserve  the  heaps 
of  ruin,  for  it  is  remarkable,  what  absurd  things  travelers 
will  often  burden  themselves  with  in  order  to  show  to 
their  friends  that  they  have  visited  places  of  note.  We 
left  the  grounds  on  the  road  which  leads  up  to  the 

222 


Ax  CORFU. 

museum  on  the  hill.  A  bridge  here  leads  over  the  Eryman- 
thos.  While  we  crossed  over  the  bridge,  a  boy,  aided  by 
a  noisy  dog,  drove  a  straggling  herd  of  goats  along  the 
creek  bottom;  this  is  the  only  crowd  of  living  beings 
that  still  hover  around  Olympia  now.  The  museum  is 
filled  with  carvings  found  on  the  excavated  grounds. 
The  most  notable  piece  is  the  statue  of  Hermes  and  child, 
by  Praxiteles,  and  the  great  Nike  or  goddess  of  victory, 
which  stood  on  the  apex  of  the  large  temple  of  Olympia. 
Along  the  walls  were  the  great  groups  of  marble  figures 
that  adorned  the  triangular  friezes  of  the  temple.  They 
represent  the  battles  of  the  Centaurs  with  the  Lapidae, 
and  were  restored  from  the  fragments  of  the  statuary 
found  in  the  excavations.  The  figures  are  of  gigantic 
size,  and  the  two  groups  are  each  over  one  hundred  feet 
long.  The  parts  missing  are  filled  in  with  plaster  of 
Paris  casts,  so  that  the  groups  are  quite  complete. 
Before  we  went  to  rest,  we  sat  for  a  while  in  the  balmy 
evening  air,  on  the  rude  benches  of  a  primitive  wine- 
tavern,  talking  to  one  of  the  natives. 

The  next  morning  we  took  the  train  back  to  Patras, 
and  after  vainly  inquiring  for  our  strayed  Baedeckers,  we 
leisurely  established  ourselves  on  board  a  steamer  for 
Corfu  and  Brindisi.  But  the  steamer  tarried  until  ten 
o'clock  at  night.  The  next  day  the  sun  rose  in  splendor 
over  the  rippling  waters.  The  verdant  shores  of  Greece 
glided  by  to  our  right,  while  the  island  of  Zakynthos, 
Cephalonia,  and  St.  Maurice  stood  guard  on  the  left. 
At  about  eight  o'clock  Corfu,  or  Corcyra,  as  the  Greeks 
call  it,  hove  in  sight,  and  at  ten  we  anchored  in  the  har- 
bor immediately  in  front  of  the  town  of  Corfu.  The  city 
presents  a  pleasant  view,  with  its  palaces  on  the  high 
promontory,  the  tall  houses  along  the  quay,  and  the 
mountains  behind.  As  it  was  Pentecost  day,  we  felt 
obliged  to  hear  mass  if  possible.  Services  were  just 
going  on  at  the  modest  cathedral.  A  scant  congregation 
223 


O'ER  OCEANS  AND  CONTINENTS. 

was  present  standing  in  groups  on  the  stone  pavement 
of  the  church.  It  seemed  to  me  that  some  of  the  ladies 
were  more  anxious  to  show  off  their  fine  dresses,  and 
meet  acquaintances,  than  to  follow  the  services.  The 
singing  and  music  were  excellent  and  appropriate  to  the 
holy  sacrifice.  Let  no  American  complain  of  too  fre- 
quent collections  in  their  churches,  for  here  we  had  no 
less  than  five  different  collections  taken  up  during  mass. 
Perhaps  that  was  necessary,  for  the  contribution  flowed 
but  scantily  in  every  one  of  them.  After  mass  we  were 
shown  a  miraculous  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  one 
of  the  side  chapels. 

Not  much  of  Sunday  quiet  reigned  on  the  great  square 
and  in  the  crowded  streets.  Most  of  the  stores  were  wide 
open.  The  houses  and  the  vessels  in  the  harbor  were 
bedecked  with  numerous  flags  in  honor  of  Prince  Con- 
stantine  of  Greece,  whose  birthday  it  was  to-day.  After 
partaking  of  a  delicious  Greek  dinner,  we  passed  the  rest 
of  our  time  in  strolling  through  different  parts  of  the  town. 
It  struck  me  as  peculiar  that  there  should  be  so  many 
stories  to  the  houses.  The  south  part  of  the  town  is  built 
on  a  high  promontory.  A  large  portion  of  this  is  occu- 
pied by  the  old  royal  palaces  and  its  surrounding  parks 
and  gardens.  Here  the  king  sometimes  spends  the 
summer  months.  The  highest  top  of  the  promontory 
is  crowned  with  fortifications  built  by  the  Italians,  the 
former  lords  of  the  island.  Through  ancient  barracks, 
still  occupied  by  soldiers  and  kept  in  good  repair,  we 
climbed  up  the  steep  hill  to  the  weather  observatory. 
An  old  tower  affords  a  charming  view  of  land  and  sea. 
Eastward  across  the  sea,  on  the  mainland  of  Epirus,  the 
convent  of  St.  Salvator  lay  perched  on  top  of  a  high 
mountain,  and  northward  of  it  the  Albanian  mountains 
lined  the  shore.  Beneath  us  the  island  of  Corfu  curved 
away  from  the  mainland  westward  into  the  sea,  full  of 
picturesque  scenery.  South  of  us  the  open  Adriatic 

224 


AT  CORFU. 

gleamed  through  the  studding  island  mountains.  The 
old  station  keeper  was  highly  gratified  by  a  small  fee  for 
the  use  of  his  telescope.  We  returned  on  the  romantic 
path  to  the  town,  and  again  boarded  the  Servia  in  order 
to  continue  our  voyage  to  Brindisi  and  Naples. 

PRACTICAL  HINTS.  For  those  who  are  acquainted  somewhat 
with  the  ancient  classics,  Greece  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
countries.  They  will  do  well  to  set  apart  for  it  a  corresponding 
portion  of  the  time  at  disposal  for  their  travels.  In  a  short  time 
the  knowledge  of  ancient  Greek  will  enable  them  to  become  some- 
what familiar  with  the  present  language,  that  is,  if  they  have  not 
shirked  the  study  of  Greek  at  college,  and  take  some  pleasure  in 
having  a  chance  to  make  the  only  practical  use  of  it  during  their 
lives.  The  relics  of  ancient  times  are  found  all  over.  Greece  will 
become  intensely  interesting,  if  the  history  connected  with  it  is  a 
little  freshened  up. 


225 


AUTHOR'S  ANNOUNCEMENT. 

"O'ER  OCEANS"  is  to  appear  in  four  different  series, 
independent  of  each  other,  yet  forming  a  continuous 
narrative  of  a  journey  through  both  hemispheres,  as 
follows : 

FIRST  SERIES  :  Chicago  —  San  Francisco  —  Hawaii- 
ans  —  Japan  —  China  —  Manila. 

SECOND  SERIES  :  Singapore  —  Burmah  —  India  — 
The  Himalayas  —  Goa  —  Bombay  —  Cairo  —  Jaffa. 

THIRD  SERIES  :  Jerusalem  —  Palestine  in  Bedouin 
Garb  —  Syria  and  Islands  of  the  Mediterranean  — 
Smyrna  —  Constantinople  —  Athens  —  Corfu. 

FOURTH  SERIES:  Naples — Rome — Vienna — Munich 

—  Oberammergau  —  Switzerland  —  The   Rhine ;   Paris 

—  London  —  New  York  —  Chicago, —  supplemented  by 
incidents  of  a  tour  of  all  the  European  countries,  the 
north  of  Africa,  and  Canada. 

On  account  of  other  much  more  important  duties, 
the  author  can  give  but  a  very  limited  amount  of  time  to 
the  writing  and  publication  of  "  O'ER  OCEANS,"  and  still 
less  to  other  matters  connected  with  their  distribution. 
But  their  reception  by  the  public  has  been  very  gratifying. 
Nevertheless,  he  wishes  it  to  be  especially  understood, 
that  the  chief  object  of  these  books  is  to  bring  to  the 
notice  of  the  English-speaking  world  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  books  in  any  language,  the  Spanish  CIUDAD 
DE  DIGS,  of  which  he  has  undertaken  the  first  English 

translation. 

226 


AUTHOR'S  ANNOUNCEMENT. 


Reader,  if  you  have  been  generous  and  intelligent 
enough  to  find  some  good  points  in  this  book  of  travel, 
in  which  I  have  sought  to  describe  in  a  pleasing  way 
the  trivial  incidences  of  a  mere  jaunt  around  this  insig- 
nificant earth,  what  may  you  not  expect  in  an  intellectual 
journey  through  CIUDAD  DE  DIGS,  where  the  hidden 
beauty  of  the  universe  is  pictured  in  a  manner  superior 
to  what  has  been  spoken  or  written,  short  of  direct  and 
certified  inspiration  from  on  high;  where  he  that  will 
but  reflect  and  is  of  good  will,  sees  opened  up  vast  vistas 
of  light  in  confirmation  of  all  that  is  true,  all  that  is  good, 
all  that  is  noble  and  inspiring,  in  the  history  of  the  human 
race?  Such  a  book  is  CIUDAD  DE  DIGS,  the  English 
translation  of  which  is  heralded  by  "  O'ER  OCEANS." 


227 


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